House of Angels
by Lawliet Veneziano
Summary: Gabriel would never have guessed that a walk through the park at night would have ended with him babysitting a not-angel with wings as well as a host of other intrusions. But the Trickster has always been one to take opportunities at hiding from Heaven whenever he can get it. (Set after season 5, will canon diverge XD Basically Gabe becomes (somewhat) domestic but destiny sucks)
1. A Walk in the Park

Gabriel's immediate thought when he found her was that this girl was not human, but this, the archangel told himself, was such an obvious thing that he was starting to wonder if this was how it felt to be a human. Stupid, pointing out the obvious, and staring at the half-naked woman for what he soon realized was probably more than a few seconds too long.

It was the wings truth be told that made him pretty much certain she wasn't human; humans didn't have wings. Angels had wings, but she was definitely not an angel; no Grace, no presence of God about her. Some monsters had wings, but as he tilted his head, regarded her, stared at her, he was pretty damn certain she wasn't really a monster either. She was...something, but the trickster did not know what and he was more disconcerted by that not knowing, him Gabriel, (ex) Messenger of the Lord, a Trickster god, him of all beings, being unaware of whatever this creature laying unconscious on the ground was. But what he did know was that the wings reminded him a bit of the past; they were black, pitch and pure as the darkness itself, not burnt or painted yet felt as if they were the shadows themselves given a physical state for her. Feathers, like a bird's, like an angel's, and his eyes came across the blood, both the dried and the still flowing from a gaping wound. A blemish on her wings, something that made his own shudder in sympathy; he did not know her, he did not care but he was struck with the sympathy of an injured wing. That had to hurt.

"What kind of trouble did you fall into, fledgling?" the words came easy and smooth though he hadn't spoken them in millenia, not since back when there had been fledglings, not since back when he had still been Gabriel. He would say it with a chuckle back then, a murmur of amusement and just a touch of concern as he watched over the younger angels, the cherubs who were just learning to walk, to fly, to sing, to be God's good little soldiers. One would stumble, one would get hurt, one would get covered in dirt and feathers and look up at the elder archangel with their baby eyes and he would just chuckle. "What kind of trouble did you fall into, fledgling?" He did it with all the younger angels as they all found some sort of way to cause themselves trouble. To Anna, to Balthasar, to Zachariah. To Castiel. And now to this girl, who didn't feel like an angel but who he couldn't stop himself from calling fledgling; maybe it was the wings, maybe it was the trouble. Maybe it was that he missed those days, those golden shining days, so very badly.

He leaned down beside her and placed a hand over the wound. The two were alone, the city park Gabriel had decided upon whim to walk through in the dead of night devoid of people, just the rustling of other feathers as birds watched from their nests, and even if they hadn't been, even if they were surrounded by a crowd, he would have still knelt down, though perhaps only after sending the humans away with some illusion or trick; unwilling to be stopped as he was, he was not a fool anyway and exposure would only lead to trouble. But at the same time he couldn't just leave this girl to suffer, that much a tiny twinkle of good will in his Grace impressed upon him in that moment. The angel took a breath, he barely had to focus; his powers were strong, and though healing wasn't exactly his specialty or something he did a lot, not nearly as fun as using his powers to trick people into their own demises, it wasn't hard either for an angel, an archangel like him. Golden light, his own special brand of Grace moving through his fingers, started to knit towards skin and tendon, wipe away the blood, heal the wound.

He didn't expect it to bite him though, whatever it was; it wasn't her, she was still fast asleep, long black strands of hair, the same midnight as her wings, covered her face and she hadn't moved or made a noise since he'd found her laying there in the middle of the park. He knew she was alive of course, could sense as much, but she had certainly not stirred even as he tried to heal her. No, rather instead it was something else, a presence he felt only as he tried to heal her and fix the damage to her wings, something truly malicious, something that didn't want her wound closed. It sparked and bit at him and he was startled, thrown for a loop as he pulled away and stared at the wound. The girl made a soft noise, akin to a coo of a bird, and winced a bit, seeming to be waking finally; Gabriel simply watched, waited, stared. And he heard more rustling, more movement nearby, and his Grace felt ablaze. Something was there, he turned his head to look, to see if he could see it, find it; something was watching them and he could feel the bloodlust rolling off it in waves.

"What?" spoke a soft voice and his attention was moved again, away from what was going on out there and back down to the girl with the injured wing and the torn dress. She seemed confused, she furrowed his brow. He didn't care; his attention was on the blood color of her eyes, clear, deep, but not demonic. She was not human, she was not an angel, she was not a demon, and there was something out there licking it's lips at her.

"Who are you?" she asked and almost seemed scared, trying to move but wincing in pain; her wing shuddered and quaked, a movement of pain rather than anything else. There was that sympathy again.

"Sit still," he told her with a forcefulness that he was sure would have made Michael proud. It wasn't anger or pride or the resolve of a soldier that formed it though; he wasn't sure what it was but he didn't want her to move, barely to breath at the moment.

His gaze moved again and without thinking his wings quivered, unfurled, extended. Most couldn't see them of course, couldn't see through the veil into the spiritual plane on which his true form existed; the shadows they cast though in the dim streetlights, the very force of his Grace with his wings unfolded as they were, this was enough to make the vast majority of creatures tremble and fall to their knees before the majesty of one of God's archangels. And he could hear whatever it was out there scuttle away, run from the Trickster, and Gabriel half smirked.

Then he heard the gasp and he turned to see the girl with large black wings of her own staring up at him with wide eyes. Namely staring at where his wings were, as if she could perceive them, could honestly see the truth of the strange man with the sandy hair and the golden eyes. See his wings, see his Grace, and her eyes just stared.

"What are you?" Her question had changed and he was tempted to call it rude but he didn't think she meant it that way and he was tired. It wasn't like a wanting to sleep sort of tired, just a general tired; tired of creatures trying to fight him, tired of things going bump around him, tired of humans and their attitudes, tired of trying to find somewhere to just have some fun and getting interrupted. Tired of fighting, running away from fighting only to be dragged back into fighting. Gabriel was just tired and he sighed.

"I'm the archangel Gabriel," he said and tried to smirk, one of his smirks, a half smile that would denote some sort of amusement, like it was a joke.

But her eyes were earnest, it reminded her honestly of Castiel and he wondered how the youngest of his celestial siblings was doing at the moment, getting a sense of something being off; the young woman continued to watch him and seeing the way his expression changed, just in the smallest ways, she frowned a bit and forced herself to her feet with some difficulty. Gabriel was used to be smaller than many of the people he dealt with, a problem with his vessel to tell the truth, but it wasn't so with her. She was small, thin, made tiny by her own eclipsing wings; her dress hung off her body mostly full pieces though her sleeves were ripped to shreds and it occurred to him she wasn't wearing shoes or socks or anything at all really below her knees. She was a good few inches shorter than him and thus had to look up at him, tilting her head as she regarded him. The Trickster didn't expect this, not the innocent look to her eyes nor when she had reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers cold but soft. They grazed over his skin and he would have shivered if he was human. Hell, he still did, and he thought again of how tired he was, how he wanted to be able to go back to being uninvolved in his family's drama and all the apocalypses and all the fighting and saving the Winchesters, saving Cas, saving everyone. Just get away and be away, even if just for a small portion of eternity.

"An archangel?" she asked again and tilted her head, again like Castiel; maybe they were secretly related. Maybe she was a Nephilim, but he knew she wasn't that because he'd still be able to sense Grace in her, and there was none. Her eyes seemed to search his face, "I've never met an archangel before."

"There are only a small number of us." Four, four archangels. And two were sealed away in a Cage deep in Hell, his brothers, his precious brothers.

"Admittedly I don't really remember meeting much of anyone before," she said and she spoke with a smile though the words rather startled Gabriel. Amnesia then? He reached up with one hand, touching her forehead gently with two fingers but before he could even focus the same thing happened; something struck back, forced him away, and both winced, stepping away from each other.

He looked at his hand, brow furrowed in confusion; he flexed his fingers, feeling the flow of his Grace, his essence, his life force and magic and all the things it encompassed. Nothing was wrong with him and he glanced up at her to see her looking scared. It wasn't of him though, he was certain of that; it was something else, something unrelated to him but not to what happened.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft, trembling and her wings fluttered nervously; the movement made her wince again and Gabriel grabbed her arm before she could step another step away.

The archangel that remembered the fledglings didn't think her running around injured was a good idea. The god concerned by the oddness of the responses to his Grace didn't want her leaving until he could figure out what was going on. Gabriel who could see the fear in her eyes and understood it and found some sympathy for that too didn't plan on letting her run. He shook his head, tried to speak in a calming way, like he did when Castiel had crashed back onto the ground after his first attempt at flight, when Balth had accidentally burned himself with his own burning blade, when Lucifer had first spoken of rebellion in soft whispers to his younger brother and Gabriel for all his love, all his understanding, had tried to tell him not to do it.

"It's okay, you don't have to run. I'm not going to hurt you." Her eyes stared at him, wide still, like a doe's, like a newborn angel staring up at it's caretaker for the first time. And he was touched by that sympathy again; he tried to smile again, he focused on her instead of letting his mind wander to his siblings again, "Do you remember anything? A name, a location, something?" What happened to her wing, why she was laying unconscious in a park in a ripped dress and nothing else, why though her eyes were red and she had large wings nothing else about her screamed monster or angel or demon or human.

She was silent, she bit her lip in thought; he watched her through it all and waited for some sort of answer, something to connect to her. But none came; she shook her head and he sighed softly, a reluctant sound but a sound nevertheless.

Something itched at the back of his head, the sensation of being watched again, and he pulled her against her chest and took a look around, surveying. His wings flexed and shook out a few downy feathers; the girl's eyes were glued on them, watching the archangel's wings move and her own quaked in response, twitching before he placed a hand upon the back of one and pressed it to her, gently, carefully.

"Let's go," he said and she opened her mouth to speak; he snapped his fingers before she could.


	2. What in a Name

After snapping his fingers Gabriel and his new friend had arrived in what seemed to be the front yard of a quiet little house in the middle of a suburb; night was still coating the sky and though there were more people out, taking their dogs for walks, taking out the garbage, normal human things, none of them seemed to notice them, to spare either of the strange beings a thought. Gabriel made sure of it; it was easy to make mortals be blind to the supernatural and while he was certain his wings were invisible to them anyway, everyone but the girl it seemed, he wasn't so sure about hers. And if a human happened to notice the fact that she had red eyes as well as two large black wings...

"Where are we?" the girl spoke with tinges of confusion and curiosity; he looked at her and she tilted her head back at him.

"Not there" was his answer and he gave a smile before pulling away from her; the archangel realized he had been holding her this whole time and while there was to his mind nothing particularly wrong with it, she hadn't struggled or seemed all that bothered by any of this, it wasn't necessary either he decided. She continued to stare at him and part of him was tempted to poke her forehead, which he was never one to resist temptation; she blinked at the playful touch and he smirked watching confusion once more ripple through her features. She really was a child, innocence very reminiscent of a fledgling angel; it didn't help as her wings, injured as one was, fluffed up some, a sign he knew from the younger angels when they were little and their wings were mainly down that meant annoyance and embarrassment. He'd loved getting that reaction from them, teasing the baby angels into pouting and puffing up; Gabriel didn't find it any less pleasing now truth be told.

He couldn't help but smile and he reached up to ruffle her hair some, heading towards the house itself; his fingers lingered for a second, thinking about other things before moving to reach out to open the front door. The archangel could hear soft footsteps behind him and he had no doubt of why, that the girl had followed him, that she was right behind him; he smirked to himself and pushing open the door he walked inside with her.

"Isn't this someone's home?" she asked softly of him, gingerly maneuvering herself, and most importantly her wings, as she entered the house and took a look around the dark entry hallway.

"Yup," he said without missing a beat and snapped his fingers, allowing the lights to turn on, "Ours."

It wasn't fancy. All in all for somewhere Gabriel put together it was actually pretty bare but the archangel would argue that he'd brought it into existence only a few minutes ago and he couldn't really be blamed for not making it as extravagant as he could have. He lived by whim, had for a very long time, even before his leaving Heaven, even before Lucifer had fallen; the youngest archangel, the least power grubbing, the least warrior like. He preferred the life of whim, even with the knowledge that it came with the risk of a bad tumble. After all he had plenty of confidence that he would be able to handle it still; the Winchesters finding him, his brother Lucifer killing him, the end of the world, none of that seemed to be able to stop Gabriel thusfar.

Either way the house had little outside of necessities; lights with fresh bulbs, a deep red couch sitting in front of a coffee table in the large living room off to the left, stairs leading up to a second level, floors, walls, doors, air. Gabriel walked towards the back and the girl continued to take a look around, walking into the dining room that went off from the living room. Her wings quivered and they spread slightly, shaking as her eyes widened. It was strange to her how amazing this felt to her, like she wasn't used to being in a house, like she wasn't used to being in a place that according to someone she just met, someone who called himself an angel, an archangel, Gabriel, was her home as well. Nothing made sense and it struck her that part of that was because she knew nothing, certainly not about herself. Waking up in that park, seeing the strange named called Gabriel, seeing the massive wings on his back...they weren't even just wings either. Three sets, six feathery appendages that seemed like they were solidified sunlight, like they were made of gold and light and every movement made them shimmer; she had been unable to help but gasp when she saw them. They were beautiful, even with the slight tarnishes to them, the smudges of ash that made her wonder what had happened to him but even with them she had been in awe, and nothing made her think it possible he could have been anything but an archangel. The one that found her.

In comparison, she thought to herself and looked over her shoulder at her own wings, black, one bloody. She could feel them against her back, the heavy weight; she could feel every movement, every twitch, every breeze. The wound in one was painful, excruciating honestly, and she found herself after a few moments of her wings being spread having to lower them again, letting them fold slightly at her back stiffly. She couldn't get them to fold completely, they wouldn't stay and she wondered how Gabriel pulled it off; he seemed very good with his wings. She liked his far better than hers; hers were so much less pretty, dull and dirty. His glowed and hers seemed to just...be nothing like that; she didn't much like hers, not just because they hurt but because they just didn't look as nice as Gabriel's. They just hurt and felt cumbersome and she grabbed one of her feathers, pulling at it. She barely winced at the sharp short pain of it. The girl did it again without another thought to it.

"Hey what are you doing?" The archangel's voice rang out quickly and as her hand reached out to grab another of her feathers Gabriel appeared at her side, gripping her wrist tight. She turned to face him and he was frowning.

The Trickster had just gone to get another look around; honestly part of him didn't fully know what he was doing, though what his immediate thought was that he was just running away again. He was trying to hide and he was using her as a tool to do so; make a house, hide away in some quiet suburb, wait out whatever was going to happen next. Have the girl around to make it look less suspicious to the humans who might be watching, and of course there would be because humans were fascinated creatures; they were always looking for the weird while at the same time managing somehow to always miss it. But it wasn't like Gabriel really knew what a proper house should look like, just the madness and playful things he normally made, over the top, extravagant, or just plain odd. This was simple though, almost too simple, and he had just figured he'd get a better look at his creation.

He had not expected to find her ripping out her own feathers and frankly it scared him. In angels that was usually a bad sign, stress or trouble or unhappiness or discontentment, never anything that could be possibly called good. It was one of his worst habits, he'd admit to no one but himself, remembering how after the big fight and Lucifer's fall his nest had ended up a good percent golden feathers that were not ready to come out; Gabriel never seemed to molt because stress always seemed to end up making him pull out his own wings at their core. And here she was, standing in the middle of the living room, pulling out her own feathers and causing more damage to her already injured wings; it wasn't good and he felt like the good thing to do would be to stop her. He did stop her; he frowned and forced her hand down, "Don't do that, okay, ever."

"Okay," she said softly and she stared into his eyes; he didn't know if she truly understood, and he told himself it didn't really matter.

He didn't let go of her. "What's your name?"

"I don't know," she said furrowing her brow and it was obvious this made her unhappy, either the fact she couldn't or the fact he was asking. Probably both.

Gabriel sighed and loosened his grip some; he let his eyes wander, move over her face and back to her wings, luckily still having more than enough feathers to spare. He reached out and touched the wound, watching her twitch in his grip and whimper a bit; her wing spread slightly and he frowned. "Well you need a name; I gotta have something to call you, fledgling."

He called her that before he could stop himself. She tilted her head at the nickname and hummed softly, her feathers rippling slightly. "Fledgling isn't much of a name; it makes me sound less like a person and more like a thing."

"It's a pet name, sweetheart," Gabriel said and wasn't too sure why he smiled at it, amused by her reaction.

He felt her wings move under his fingertips, he felt his Grace try to leak out again to sew up her wound but whatever it was keeping her hurt, as it certainly didn't seem to want to protect her, still stinging at his fingers. The fake god ignored it, he brushed them against the feathers, feeling the smoothness, the fluff. They seemed almost like raven's feathers but they looked more like a songbird's wing and he realized it was more than just black on further inspection; there was a tinge of blue, dark like the sky at midnight. The light caught and he thought of Castiel again, he thought of his family. He thought of birds and gods and how he probably wouldn't be able to keep from doing things that would attract the Winchesters, and it always seemed to be them that found him, but he would enjoy just freedom again for as long as it lasted.

"Nyx," he said finally and she furrowed her brow; he read her thoughts before she could speak them, "How about Nyx for a name? At least until you can remember who you are; better than nothing I think. Nyx like the goddess of the night, though it's really cuz your wings remind me of a nightingale's wing. Nightingale, night, Nyx, huh?"

Gabriel gave him one of his smirks, confident, pleased with himself and his line of thought. He thought it was a good name, one that suited her. It was pretty and had that taste of mystery to it, like a girl with red eyes and wings and no memory of who she was. He thought she'd like it but watching her expression not change for what felt a few seconds too long, he actually doubted himself. Just a little, just for a moment.

But then, she smiled and he was taken aback. The Trickster wasn't used to such things, not someone looking at him with such reverence and innocence, someone who saw what he was, at the very least that he wasn't human, and didn't seem off put or freaked out. The girl smiled and it was simple and it was clear and he couldn't help but be startled by it.

"Thank you," she said and that too made him furrow his brow with more than a little uncertainty; it had after all been even longer that he had been thanked for his actions, especially one as silly and uncomplicated as giving the nameless a name.

But she liked it, he choose one she liked. It made his overconfident grin return full force and he chuckled some, shrugging. "Eh no problem, fledgling; glad you like it then. It was either that or Bob and you don't really look like a Bob but you never know." She laughed, just a little and his grin grew.

"So what now?" she asked him, wings shifting behind her impatiently; she looked up at him expectantly and a chuckle left Gabriel again.

"Well I was thinking of having a snack, something sweet to treat myself after such good work on this house and giving you such a good name." The girl, Nyx, her eyes lit up and the archangel snapped his fingers, bringing into existence food.

When he said snack, he meant a feast, and by sweet he did not joke around. Nyx blinked and cakes appeared on a long red clothed table, along with piles of cookies and pies, muffins and all sorts of candies. It was enough to rot teeth just by looking at it;she glanced over it all and tilted her head in thought at it all. Gabriel didn't waste a second in digging in, grabbing a strawberry cream cupcake and licked the icing off the top with a pleased sound; he always enjoyed a good treat, whether it was after, during, before or even sans a tricking of some high and mighty prick. Normally he had to conjure companions, usually hot babes, women to make real and have some fun with, or he'd dine alone, depending on his mood; tonight though he seemed to have a much less imaginary buddy, watching as Nyx picked up one of the muffins and after examining it for a second she took a bite out of it. She smiled, seeming pleased as well and took another bite, allowing the Trickter to feel rather glad himself.

His eyes moved and caught on her injured wing, the dim lighting of the house, he'd definitely get to work making this place more homey later, catching on the blood crusted onto her feathers. Gabriel couldn't use his powers on the wound, that much seemed pretty much clear after what happened in the park; he remembered the sensation at the park, the thing watching, the creature in the shadows who had been rolling with bloodlust and intent. He didn't know what it had been but he knew he didn't like it, especially if what he first sensed and tried to scare away was what had been watching them before he brought them both back to his new little hiding hole. He felt certain it had been watching her, that it was interested specifically in his new injured friend, whatever it was. Whatever she was. The thought to let it have her crossed his mind but instead he watched her eat her muffin happily, her wings fluffing and stretching just a bit, just a little, and he reached out nonchalantly, muttering something under his breath. It was old, older than English, older than Latin, older than humans; it was the language of angels, Enochian, a language he knew all too well.

Nyx stopped for a moment hearing him and turned to look at him, unsure what he was doing. For his part he wasn't all too certain himself but it only took a few seconds before there was a glow and she felt a warmth around her wings, not so much in terms of heat but in a different sense. Like comforting, like soothing; she stretched out her wings and Gabe watched as they did so, seeing the flutter of the feathers, the slight further bleeding of her wound. And the etching of Enochian marks, making their way over her feathers; she glanced over to notice the light glow of the emblems and she blinked, "What are those?"

"Just a small spell of concealing," he told her waving it off and walked over to her, "Figured since we're sticking around it might help to make it so that people can't see your wings. Probably can't fold them very well with this injury," he reached out to touch it, making sure to hold back his Grace as much as possible and not make whatever was within her to get set off again; she flinched and her wing ruffled under his fingertips.

She shook her head and he nodded, continuing on, "Well then the spell will keep people from asking questions, when we see them at least. Until then though, might as well get this blood washed up and dress the wound; it's gonna get infected if we don't do something soon."

The archangel pulled away and snapped his fingers again, summoning up a wash cloth already wetted; carefully he started to wash her feathers, careful not to get them too wet and not to irritate the injury itself.

He heard a soft voice, half whispering to him. "You're an angel right?"

"Archangel but I prefer Trickster god no," he corrected with a smirk.

"Do you have the power to heal?" she asked and he nearly froze up, "I always thought..."

"We do normally but I suffered some damage a while ago; looks like my ability to heal is temporarily out of commission," he lied with all the ease of the god of lies. There was no reason after all, he told himself as he continued to clean her wing, to make her worry about things even he didn't understand in that moment. He'd rather she think nothing of it, that it was that he couldn't heal at all, and she didn't answer more, closing her eyes as he continued, a silent calm falling over them and the house. And he had to admit it wasn't half bad.


	3. Baking, Painting, Playing and Flying

On the seventh day, Gabriel did the opposite of his father like he liked to do the majority of his existence: he worked.

The archangel had learned three things while staying there in the house. First that humans really were strange, friendly, insane creatures; they gossiped about everything, about him, about Nyx, about Maggie the single mother four doors down, about Mrs. Hobin and her abnormally prim garden. They smiled and talked to each other and they even bugged the new duo in the neighborhood. That was why Gabriel had joined the Home Owners Associate, because of that talking and friendliness; he never thought he would be the type, he still wasn't. It was just what you did in the suburbs, just the normal thing to do when you own a house, even one you make yourself; it had nothing to do with the fact that Debbie from next door wouldn't leave him alone and certainly he, the Trickster, the archangel Gabriel, was not afraid of some puffed up blonde with manicured nails and a steel gaze that would make the strongest of souls want to shrivel up and die. Not his of course, Gabriel was much stronger than any human. Yet he still signed up, he still listened to the spiel about lawn maintenance, about what he could and couldn't put up, how he could and couldn't paint the house. He just didn't want to stand out too much.

The second thing was that while he was happy to eat sweets until the sun burns out eventually, and angels didn't really need to eat anyway and demons didn't always think to, Nyx did have one thing in common with normal humans: on occasion she needed to eat something different than sugar drenched donuts and cupcakes all the time. It wasn't like she had complained of course; Nyx never complained, not about anything Gabriel did. It was sometimes strange to him how she would wince in pain when he'd apply antiseptic to her wound every morning and redress it, pout when he told her to clean her wings properly, look uncomfortable when he encouraged her to interact with the neighbors to make no one too suspicious about her or him, but never with a word of protest. He suspected she trusted him, and he knew why that might be, but it took actually watching her to know that she needed more than just the same sugary sweets he consumed on the regular. On the fourth day she had laid on the couch, head on his lap as he played on the Playstation he'd created for the house, just for entertainment, and she'd not moved, not out of contentment but because, as he watched her out of the corner of her eye, it seemed more like she was having a stomach ache. He didn't like that, he didn't want that, so the next day he filled the kitchen. He made sure it was stocked. And he watched as she at first fumbled, walking around and looking into cabinets, into the refrigerator he put inside, at all the food, and then finally, eventually, slowly, started to cook. But it was always for them both.

Third was the bad thing. Third was that even this suburb was not immune to the things that crawl in the dark. The first night had not been bad, and the second and third had been mostly quiet though he had noticed Nyx look over at the window more than once. On the fourth, after finishing on the Playstation and deciding to make her go to sleep in her own room, since he didn't want to be stuck on the couch all night and she needed rest with her stomach ache, he found her only a few hours after midnight standing near the door, looking out the window into the front yard; he didn't see anything himself. Fifth night she pouted some as he rebandaged her wing and asked him if he heard it; he asked what and she said the growling. He didn't hear anything. Sixth night he caught her right before she walked outside and he started to worry. On the seventh night they had been there he didn't catch her, he heard her. Gabriel heard her call out to him, her voice scared, and the archangel made his way from the kitchen where he'd been not been eating all the muffins she'd made that day, walking through the house and through the open front door to find her cowering on the yard, her wings folded around her as much as her injured one could manage wrapped as it was. He saw the shadows moving and he heard the growl now, the movement of something in the darkness of the otherwise sleeping cul-de-sac. And he saw the scratches, digging into the wood of his home, deep, dark, and large.

And so, on the seventh day they were there, the Trickster stood outside the house, humming a playful tone while he drew the paintbrush in his hand over the outside of the house. Part of it was to hide the scratches, paint over them, make sure the humans didn't take note and start anything; they might ask more questions, they might start freaking out, they might call the authorities. And god knew it wouldn't end well if Gabriel had to deal with any police officers; not that they could prove anything about him; he just didn't want to deal with them for the most part, not when he hadn't gotten making up histories for him and Nyx, not when she had no idea who she was and that could raise a red flag with the cops. He stretched his arms, not honestly used to such manual labor as this though he had good reason for it at the same time, and he leaned down to the paint can sitting at his feet to wet his brush more. A noise nearby alerted him to Nyx walking through the doors, careful in her movements so her wings didn't hit the doorframe, and he looked up from where he leaned; she held a try in her hands, a pitcher of what looked to be lemonade and the unmistakable scent of cinnamon sugar cookies, something she had quickly figured out and he found himself rather enjoying. Especially when she shaped them like people; he liked to pretend it was Dean and he was "killing" him yet again.

A smile played at his lips and he stood again, not even trying to resist licking his lips before reaching out with one hand. She huffed, pulling just out of reach and the archangel pouted.

"Your hand," she said in her soft sort of voice and Gabriel blinked, looked at his hand; it was covered in the same soft blue paint he had been using, splotching his skin and gotten under his nails. No wonder; he smirked and snapped his fingers, cleaning away the paint immediately. She smiled, he got his cookie and after putting down the brush he grabbed one of the glasses of fresh lemonade that had also been traveling on the tray.

"Mmmm I have to admit that I am very fond of homemade things," he mused, taking a sip, "Handmade lemonade, fresh baked cookies," the Trickster took a bite and made a pleased noise, "Certainly didn't get homemade cookies in Heaven."

"Why not?" she asked and sat on the front steps, wings quivering, setting the tray down before grabbing the other glass to drink from, all the while her eyes never left his face, she never stopped watching him.

The archangel was uncertain if he wished to smile or not, whether her question made him think of good things or bad. Instead he shrugged, "Angels don't need to eat, no real reason for them to bake or cook or do anything like that. And before you ask, I just happen to love eating, sweets that is; even before I become the Trickster, before all...this, I liked the taste of sugary things. Cakes, cookies, scones, muffins, candy, love it all." Now he smiled, more amused and bittered than anything else. "Guess that made it clear that I was always the oddest ball of them all."

Youngest archangel, smallest; he was a fighter, archangel of justice, but he was also the Messenger, the fastest, the most childish. Raphael loved his books and Michael loved to fight and Lucifer loved their Father and Gabriel...Gabriel loved the fledglings. He loved sunny days when he could lay out with his wings stretched as far as he could. He loved eating the sweet things he could create out of nowhere, messing with his brothers, soaring through the skies, teaching the young angels how to fly and have fun and to never forget they were never just the soldiers of God but also his precious children. And when all the fighting begun, when Heaven went to war and Lucifer fell and God ran away and Michael took over and things got just too tense, everything he loved, everything he once enjoyed, was no longer the way it had been. The odd one out left; he wasn't sure how many followed though he remembered stars that shot across the sky, and now here he was, eating a cookie and drinking lemonade with a girl who knew more about him than she did herself at this point, painting their house light blue to cover up scratches.

"Hey Gabe, can I ask a question?" Nyx asked and she tilted her head some as he looked at her, raising an eyebrow in expectation of what that question might be, "Is it just me or are there glowing symbols on the house?"

Gabriel looked at the house. She was right, though truth be told it was indeed just her, and him, and anyone other supernatural thing that might be in the near vicinity or even thinking of coming close. Humans couldn't see them but still he'd gotten to work painting over them; honestly that was most of why he was doing it by hand. It wasn't just that the Enochian was special, symbols older than most angels knew, older than most except the archangels themselves. Ancient words for an ancient spell, one that as far as Gabriel knew not even Raphael and Michael knew; it was for protection, to keep the house safe, them safe. Her safe; he remembered how scared she'd been the night before all too vividly, the way her wings shook and shuddered, the strain curling the injured one around her put on her, and he didn't much like it. He was the Trickster yes, a pagan demigod who killed people on a semi-regular basis, but she was an innocent and he didn't like seeing innocents suffer. Plus she made good cookies.

His smile grew playful, and big. He put a finger to his lips. "That's a secret, fledgling, so not so loud."

Nyx blinked and her wings extended slightly at her sides, feathers brushing against the ground and catching the sunlight; it was clearer in the day, to his eyes alone of course with his little spell from the first night still holding strong, that her feathers were deep blue as well as black, a mixture of the two. He could almost imagine what it would look like once she had healed and didn't have to have her wing wrapped up like it was now. Probably quite pretty, he was certain about it. Quickly enough she smiled too, a sweet thing coming from her and she nodded. "Alright then Gabriel."

And with that things turned to silence; he took another sip of his lemonade and more than one more bite of his cookie before setting the former down beside Nyx and picking up once more his paint brush. The archangel prepared to continue working on the house, all his painting over the wards to better hide them, and heard rustling, the soft tink of glass on concrete and felt foreign feathers against his skin and he smiled some to himself. And he brushed the paintbrush against her nose, making her squeal and whine, rubbing at her nose.

"That's what you get for getting too close, fledgling," he mused playfully.

"I want to help," she told him, continuing to rub her nose.

He hummed and dipped the brush into the paint once again before running it over the outer wall once more; she watched him, perhaps waiting for a response but none came. Gabriel continued to paint and continued to pretend not to pay her mind. Honestly it was amusing for him to have her standing around waiting, her wings twitching, wiping at her nose, looking slightly annoyed; it was mischievous and that's what he liked about it but it was also just nice in the moment. It was simple and stupid and weirdly domestic and he kind of liked that in a way; it was certainly different than dealing with hunters and angels and demons and all sorts of nonsense. Just him an archangel in hiding and Nyx a girl with amnesia and wings.

"I really do want to help," she said with a slight huff in her voice.

"I'm fine, Nyx, don't worry about it," he said and gave her a smirk, "I can handle a little manual labor; haven't been hiding out on Earth this long for nothing after all."

"I didn't mean it like that."

He shook his head and patted her head, maybe a little condescendingly but there was no malice to it. "I know, sugarplum. As I said, don't worry; I got this. How about you go work on your Mario Kart skills and when I'm done here we can go for a walk or something, get out of the house for a bit." They had to let the sigils take hold, give the magic a little time to actually set in and start doing it's work.

She smiled just a bit. "You're just trying to distract me from the fct that even I know that Mario Kart is Nintendo and shouldn't be on the Playstation, Gabriel."

His smirk grew and he hummed. "Me? Try and distract you? Never my dear. Now scoot; now you're distracting me. Bad little fledglings don't get ice cream you know."

"I can get my own ice cream," she said though she sat up and shaking out her wings she went back inside with her glass, leaving the tray with the cookies out for him.

He laughed and called after her, "Not if I don't hide it!"

Gabriel would never admit it but it did take the rest of the day to actually get enough of the house painted to actually feel the spells were hidden well enough and the scratches were properly tended to. It was hard honestly, doing everything by hand, not using his wings to help him get to the high up spots, not using his powers to just magic the paint on like he had the symbols; he only had himself to blame though, he was well aware of this fact and by the time the sky started to turn dark and he collapsed onto the grass in exhaustion, he was pretty sure he would never move again.

There was still one cookie though left on the tray and it might not be warm anymore but he still wanted it; he grumbled to himself and reached out, trying to beckon the cookie to him. He wasn't sure why he didn't just use his powers to bring it to him, or make more of his own. For the latter at least he really just wanted that cookie, one of the ones Nyx had made for him and didn't want any substitutes. The trickster was mainly just feeling too lazy for the former though and after a minute of trying he dropped his arm and stared up at the sky. The light blue of the day had given day to darker hues and the stars were just barely starting to make themselves known. A connect-the-dots artwork above him and he suddenly remembered staring at the sky like this before; it had been soon after escaping to Earth, after he had assumed Loki's identity. The young archangel, younger then than he was now, had found himself a small meadow near the shores of Norway, stretched out with his wings spread out on the grass; he remembered staring up at the sky and thinking of Heaven, of his brothers, of his sisters. He'd felt homesick, a pit in his gut as he had questioned his decision, whether it was right what he had done, leaving the Host and coming to hide out on Earth, away from everything else that had been going on, away from his family. As the years went by, became centuries, became millenia, he had thought less and less of that decision and whether it was right or wrong. He came to believe, as he reminded himself laying there now on the front yard of his little home in the middle of a nameless, boring suburb, that he'd done what he could. Heaven was at war, Heaven was always at war, and he did not want to fight.

Eventually he forced himself up through; he grabbed the cookie and headed into the house, leaving the still wet paintbrush in the grass as he headed inside once more. Nyx was in the living room, the tv and connected gaming systems, like Gabriel would have just one, all off; she was standing with her injured wing extended, the wrappings loose and hanging off the feathery appendage as she stretched it out then back in slowly and carefully. The old angel watched, head tilted a bit; the injury was still nowhere near completely healed, he could see the pain crossing her face as she moved her wing but it did look to him she did have some movement. And it occurred to him a problem that could arise if he just kept her cooped up all the time, a problem that a solution to which popped almost immediately into his head. As long as he could get her to let him rewrap the bandages; seeing them hanging loose was making him cringe honestly.

"Nyx," he said and she stopped almost immediately, her wings stiffening as she turned to him with a guilty look; Gabriel smirked, honestly finding it rather amusing more than anything.

He motioned and she sheepishly approached, giving him enough time to actually finish off the cookie and even lick his lips. Almost as if knowing his thoughts the young woman offered her injured wing, wincing a little and he took off the wrappings carefully, winding them around his arm before lifting the small cloth pad placed over the actual wound. There was blood, of course there was, but he was somewhat pleased to see that it was no long actively bleeding as much and he was willing to bet cookies on the idea that the reason there was any fresh blood was because of her moving her wing around like she had been. But still it was nowhere near as bad as it had been the night he found her. He playfully tutted, not a serious sort of sound and not disappointment or anything of the like to color it; he cleaned the wound and he redressed it, replacing the old with new, making sure not to wrap it too tight. Once done he stepped away and tilted his head slightly. "Try moving your wing for me."

"Gabriel?"

"I just want to make sure the bindings aren't too tight." Nyx nodded and unfolded her injured wing, letting it stretch out as much as she could. The archangel watched it carefully, and her face as well, taking note of any discomfort that showed, any abnormal movement. She slowly moved it back to her side and spoke, "Is that enough?"

"Yes," he said and smiled, "Let's go for that walk now."

Her eyes lit up and he felt almost guilty. But Gabriel told himself he had no reason to; instead he headed for the front door without another word, summoning up two coats with a snap of his fingers. He didn't need to turn to look to know she was right behind him; it wasn't even the telltale sound of feathers brushing against the ground, the walls, everything. It had a feeling, a sense in the back of his neck as he opened the door and offered the smaller of the two coats, Nyx taking it from him and muttering a thanks before both walked out one after the other.

Nyx looked around them and furrowed her brow. She hadn't expected when they went for a walk that they would end up going as far as they did nor that this would be the place that they would stop; the moon was full and she found herself staring at it, tilting her head before the sound of her name, the one he gave her, called her back from the edges of lost memory she had started to slip towards. She looked at him, trying not to smile at his coat; the one he had given her was relatively normally, a soft light blue that Gabriel said made her look like a little bird with the holes placed in the back that let her wings hang out. His though, his was vibrant, an assortment of colors that she was sure he knew looked silly but that may have been the point honestly; he had another one of his smirks, playful, tricky, entirely like the one who called himself a Trickster. It made her feel at ease to see it, knowing Gabriel was there; it was likely a result of her having no memories from before he found her but for whatever reason she did feel safe with the strange archangel. Especially seeing him look so happy dressed in such a silly-looking jacket.

"Why are we here, Gabriel?" she asked with a small smile and he blinked innocently, tilting his head at her.

"What, don't like the view?" Nyx looked again; they were standing on a hilltop a few miles from the house and cul-de-sac, the park that surrounded the hill was quiet, empty with it being so late at night, and from their position she could see a city, lights and dim noise raising up from still conscious world below them. It wasn't a bad sight, she found it rather amazing, to see what the people were up to, to see civilization laid out before her. She just didn't understand why he had decided to bring her here in the first place.

She shook her head. "No it's very pretty, I like it a lot."

"Much better than the house at least," he said and she nodded this time; he smiled and stood beside her, "I should have put it on a hill but I wanted to hide it in plain sight and a sleepy little neighborhood surrounded by humans in some unknown little city? Sounded like a perfect plan."

"Were you planning on hiding out here before?"

"Sort of," Gabriel admitted and shrugged, "I was planning what I usually do."

"Which is...?"

"My own witness protection. Ever since I left heaven I have always found ways to hide myself; hunters find me, think they kill me, I pretend to die but go find somewhere else to be. But I don't care about hunters finding me, they don't worry me."

"What does then?" she asked.

He hesitated but only for a second, finding it easier to say it than he thought. "My family. My older brothers Michael and Lucifer and Raphael to be exact but honestly? All of heaven, every last one of them, I don't ever want them to find me. I don't want them near me. I left because I wanted peace and I know, if they find me, they won't let me have it. I'd rather be stuck around dull humans for the rest of eternity than deal with their drama ever again." The Apocalypse had ended, Lucifer and Michael were supposed to have been sealed away according to what he heard, things were calmer now. And yet he didn't feel safe, he didn't feel right; he still felt like finding some place to hide away and play with some souls who deserved it but still, keep away from Heaven and it's drama.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her, seeing something akin to sadness on her face. Not quite pity but still, he shrugged it off; he smiled again, trying to push such depressing thoughts away and he spoke with conviction. "Nevermind that though; time to fly."

"Fly?" Nyx asked, blinking and her eyes widened watching his wings expand from his back.

Gabriel loved his wings, though he didn't often let them loose; outside of the fact that normal people couldn't perceive them anyway, being the Trickster for so long made it easier just to hide them. Still he did have some pride in them; he was far from the only angel with six wings, but each pair were distinct and each had their purpose for making him once the fastest of all of God's angels. The smaller pair were crow-like, almost fluffy in their appearance, puffing at his sides as he stretched and gave slow flaps to clear all the soreness; its feathers were almost caramel in color, warm to the touch, the kind of feathers that were good for wrapping around his body for warmth on cold nights. The second pair were definitely longer but not much bigger, slim and obviously more made for aerodynamics than anything else, the hue of its feather more like sunflower petals, bright and cheery, and right behind that pair, large and impressive, were his main pair. They were at least twice his own size though much smaller than their true form in this vessel; they spread wide and long but had considerable size as well, and shone with the same sort of coloration as his eyes, golden light swirling and shimmering. But it wasn't just gold looking at them, any of the sets; there were marks of darkness, smudges where the divinity gave way to the Trickster's gray morality, and burns; the death of an angel always had an effect on things around them but the scorchmarks left over from the death of angels from the war still lingered to some of his feathers. And largest of all, a streak along the backside of the largest wing on his right side, where he'd curled them around him as Lucifer had fallen, the mark left by the loss of his once beloved brother. Still his wings curled slightly at his sides and he smiled mainly at the freedom of letting them out, forgetting the bad, the meaning of the marks for a moment, but also because the amazement on her face, the way her eyes widened and watched him, how her own wings flexed as if in response, as if to show they too could spread like his, it still pleased him.

He chuckled and with one forceful flap of his wings lifted off the ground and into the sky. Gabriel felt the night air rush by him, could hear the wind blast by his ears as he flew higher and higher and higher, until he almost felt like her could touch the stars, only to turn and dive down at a faster rate than he had risen, allowing his primary pair to take the blunt and pull in his smaller pairs. That's why they were the way they were, formed for perfect aerodynamics, the largest set for diving, for the fastest downward flight, the second set for breakneck vertical travel, all three for endurance and general speediness. He controlled it the entire time, spreading all six once more before he could even come close to hitting the ground and stayed afloat before her, grinning madly.

"Come on," he told her and offered a hand, "Haven't you ever flown before?"

"My injury though," she answered him and looked over her shoulder at her injured wing before turning back to him; she sounded worried but the look in her eyes, the look said something more. Wanting, curiosity; he couldn't but smile back.

"It'll be good for you," Gabriel said, "Your wings need exercise, otherwise you'll lose muscle mass while trying to heal and then you might have trouble later trying to fly. The humans are asleep, the night is calling, there's nothing to bother us; it's a perfect night to practice."

The winged girl didn't answer at first, biting down on her lip. It continued for so long he honestly started to almost worry, thinking maybe she wouldn't agree, maybe it had been a bad idea. But finally, after what began to feel like an eternity, her wings extended and flapped, once, twice, three times. Her hand grabbed onto his as she started to rise and his smile grew even wider.

"Atta girl," he mused.

"I'm flying," Nyx said with amazement in her voice and a delighted smile on her face; he nodded, continuing to hold her hand as they both rose up into the sky.

Nyx and Gabriel flew back to the house after a few hours up on the hill; he'd shown her all sorts of tricks, loops and swirls and just how fast he could dive. She had laughed, clapped, seemed delighted by it but she herself had stuck to the basics, her injured wing still far too sensitive for any of the most complicated maneuvers. She followed right behind him, using her wings and the wind to glide through the air as they flew over the neighborhood, Gabriel's magic hiding them from view even as they lowered themselves, bringing themselves down in the front yard of their house. As it was she was the first to land, shaking out her feathers slightly before folding her wings in as much as she could; Nyx was the first to notice the strange man sitting on the doorstep, his head bowed, almost seeming to be asleep. His short cut brownish-blonde hair looked speckled with what seemed to be ash and as she looked at him she noticed red marks on his face, like open sores.

She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him if he was okay but Gabriel beat her to it, his voice both surprised and angry. "How the hell did you get here, Lucifer?"

Eyes opened. Head lifted. Nyx blinked, noting how blue his eyes looked and the strange man smiled. "Why, hello little brother, fancy meeting you here."


	4. Discussions with the Devil

The teapot whistled in the kitchen and Nyx looked over, blinking a few times. Silently the girl walked over, pouring some of the hot water into some mugs and dunked a bag of Earl Grey into each before settling them on a tray alongside a plate of muffins and making her way back into the living room.

Gabriel sat on the couch crosslegged, eyes narrowed as he glared at the arm chair situated in front of him; his wings were shuddering threateningly, stretching and shaking out golden and slightly blackened feathers alike. He was trying to seem bigger, like an animal threatened, looking at something more dangerous, larger, scarier; Nyx thought he reminded her most specifically of a cat and was half expecting to hear him hissing as she walked closer to him. She had to try to hold back a laugh at the thought of the archangel as just a large, winged, golden cat and set the tray down on the coffee table, offering him one of the mugs. He barely looked at her, blinking for a second before taking it with a quick smile and turning his glare back at the chair.

Or more specifically, his brother who was as it were tied to the chair. Nyx was struck with the idea that it was odd how easy it had been; after the initial contact at the first door, where Gabriel had looked like he wanted to gut the fallen angel where he sat, the two angels and the psuedo-angel went inside. Rather Gabriel grabbed Lucifer by the collar of the tattered shirt he was wearing and Lucifer laughed as he was forced inside, pushed into the chair and tied down. She would have thought that the Devil wouldn't be so easy to catch or hold, but the rope Gabriel produced, and proceeded to string around his older brother and tie so tight Lucifer had grunted in what seemed to be pain for a moment there, seemed to be doing a good job of holding him. Or maybe it was the rather concerning ring of fire the Trickster had set ablaze in the carpet around the armchair; when he'd saw her reaction Gabriel had made sure to assure her that the carpet would be fine and the flames were to keep Lucifer from "doing anything too stupid". Still Nyx worried.

Lucifer was still smiling she noted when she tried to offer him another of the mugs, smiling lightly back at him. The Devil raised an eyebrow at her, not entirely sure what to make of her; obviously not an angel, definitely not a demon, most assuringly not human. He chuckled again with some darkness but more weak than he really wanted. "As you can see I can't exactly take that."

She blinked then blushed in embarrassment, setting the mug down again and he laughed, finding it quite amusing to tell the truth; he turned his gaze back to his brother who continued to bristle and puff up like an affronted feline. "Wherever did you find this one, Gabby? She seems more clueless than Castiel does."

Nyx frowned and Gabriel practically growled, his wings spreading to their full impressive size. Lucifer felt anger seeing it, a deep rooted, jealous anger, barely paying mind to his younger brother's words. "How in the hell did you get here? Last I checked you were still in the Cage."

"With our precious big bro Michael yes," the fallen spoke and rolled his head with a sigh, "Gotta say I didn't really see that one coming; who knew Sammy would have enough strength of spirit to actually be able to overpower me and toss me, him, Mikey and his own widdle baby brother into the Pit like that? That takes some guts."

"Didn't answer my question," Gabriel said and drew his wings back in though the main pair stayed mostly extended, giving a partial shade for him and his winged assistant.

Lucifer sighed once more and he fidgeted, grumbling lightly. "Could someone maybe loosen these, they're starting to dig into my skin something fierce..."

"Lucifer..."

"I mean really is this how you treat your brother, Gabby? Very cruel."

"You stabbed me!" Gabriel's outburst and the resulting surge of electricity around them coming from his Grace flaring made Nyx squeak and her eyes to widen. His wings had returned to full length and even Lucifer himself seemed slightly put off staring at the anger of the youngest archangel. Gabriel's fists clenched, breaking his mug and sending hot tea all over him, causing Nyx to squeak in concern and surprise. Upon noting the look on her face though he took a deep breath, tried to calm himself. There was no good in scaring her and honestly he really didn't want to either. It wasn't like it was her fault that Lucifer was here or that what had occurred between the brothers had; Nyx was innocent in this, perhaps the only actual one there.

"Lucifer, I'm just going to ask once more: what are you doing here, how did you get here and why did you come here of all places?"

"Castiel," Lucifer said and Gabriel furrowed his brow, not really certain what he meant; the elder archangel fidgeted again, "It was Castiel; our brother came and he retrieved Sam from the Cage."

"He what?!" Gabriel exclaimed; the Trickster rubbed his face with both hands and only then remembered the tea. He snapped his fingers, instantly drying himself and found a bitter smile creep over his face when he saw Nyx standing there with a towel looking a bit disappointed. But it wasn't important; he shook his head and tried again, "Castiel went to Hell and dragged Sam Winchester out of the Cage and that somehow ended with you sitting on my doorstep in your little Nick body suit?"

"Body suit?" Nyx asked and Gabriel froze up. Oh god, this wasn't going to be fun; it was his turn to fidget and Lucifer watched with some amusement.

"What, it doesn't know?"

"She doesn't have to know.

She pouted. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here. What do you mean by body suit, Gabriel?"

"Oh and it even knows your actual name," the Devil smirked; tied up as he was he couldn't avoid the sharpened chopstick that hit him and lodged in his shoulder. He yelped and glared at his brother who was prepared with four more of them between the fingers of his left hand, eyes glittering dangerously.

" _She_ has a name," the Trickster spoke and looked at her with a happy sort of smile, "Right, fledgling?"

She blinked and blushed some before nodding shyly. "Um yeah, Nyx. My name is Nyx."

"Nyx huh?" the elder archangel said tilting his head again; he winced, the small movement made the chopstick move as well and dig in further.

She blinked and moved closer; Gabriel opened his mouth to stop her but she had already reached out, barely avoiding flames as she pulled the chopstick out, causing him to cry out. The Trickster got up quickly and grabbed her, pulling her back before she could be burned by the holy fire, looking over her arm, checking for any injury. Lucifer watched and was silent for once, just observing as his younger brother flustered and fawned. It was then the fallen angel noticed the way one of her wings was covered in bandages, wrapped up tight and he raised an eyebrow in interest.

"It's a pretty name," he spoke again and both archangel and winged girl looked at him; Lucifer smiled and shifted in his seat, "Works well for you. Devil approved."

"Um thanks," she said not sure what else to say to that and looked at Gabriel in confusion. He watched his older brother very carefully, not too sure what to do right now but he did know he didn't like him being there, not one bit.

"So...what did you mean by body suit?" The archangel winced, having sort of hoped she would have forgotten about that; Gabriel left go of her hand and shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. Lucifer was smirking, amused by the sight of this.

"It's a vessel," the trickster answered.

"A vessel?"

"Basically we angels can't really exist on this plane in our true forms so we need some sort of form that exists here already to take so we don't hurt anyone, just exist."

"We possess humans," Lucifer cut in and Gabriel glared at him only for the fallen to grin happily at him, "Like demons, though we do ask for permission unlike them."

"You possess them? Really?" she asked eyes widening; she turned to the Trickster who made a point not to look Nyx in the eye, "Gabriel, is that true?"

"Yeah, we do ask for permission first; we can't just take a body without the person allowing it."

"So you possess them?"

"With permission."

"This isn't how you really look." There was disappointment in her tone; Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. He looked at her again to find her expression at best confusing. She didn't seem so much upset as she did just a bit sad and uncertain, her eyes trying to find something in his face. It occurred to him perhaps she was trying to perceive his true form and on one hand he wondered if she could, if she was special enough to see his angelic form and not have her mind and body destroyed. But on the other, a far more prevalent hand, he couldn't resist a smile, a small chuckle as he watched the intensity and purpose with which Nyx tried to see his hidden self.

He reached out and patted her on the head, making the winged girl blink and then pout once more. "This is what I look like, fledgling."

"My darling little brother seems to have had the same vessel since he originally ran away from Heaven," Lucifer mused watching them with a smile, "Which I have to say that's pretty impressive; even for being the weakest of the archangels-"

"Hey!"

"It's true little bro. Anyway even so archangels aren't easy to house; your vessel is certainly something special for being able to do so after all this time. Perhaps it's your true vessel?~"

Gabriel turned to Nyx. "Archangels have what are called true vessels, one person who exists somewhere in time that can allow us to use our full powers, that can house us perfectly without degradation."

"Degradation?" Nyx asked tilting her head; she looked over at Lucifer, took note of the sores on his face and then spoke again, "That's not his true vessel is it?"

Gabriel smiled, oddly proud. "No, that's not. His is a man named Sam Winchester; Sam and his brother Dean are supposed to play out the final battle between my brother Michael and the douchenozzle over there by being their vessels but last I checked the Winchesters don't plan on playing along any time soon. Sam said yes...er gave his permission that is but then got himself and the guy who was being Michael's vessel thrown into the Cage. The Cage is where Lucifer was sealed up after he rebelled against Heaven."

"And then an angel named Castiel rescued Sam from the Cage and that let Lucifer free," Nyx said connecting dots; he nodded and she furrowed her brow, "So if Dean is supposed to be Michael's vessel does that mean he got thrown into the Cage too?"

"Nah, Michael was rolling in the body of the Winchester's little half brother Adam," Lucifer interjected, fidgeting again against the ropes binding him, "Dean wouldn't say yes if you tortured him. Which he has been. Probably why the 'final battle' ended with my vessel rebelling against me, irony, and the group of us ending up in the Cage while Dean got to go off and do...whatever it is Dean does."

"He's living with an old girlfriend and her son," Gabriel said "Not hunting, living a normal life. Though if Sam's back I have to wonder how long that'll last."

Nyx nodded, thinking about it. "So I guess that covers how he got here but that still leaves the other two questions."

Gabriel had to agree. Lucifer got out of the Cage because of Castiel, that covered the how to a degree, at the very least it was enough for now. But that still left why he came here and what he hoped to accomplish. And how, how did he find Gabriel with the wards and protections he had placed around the house, specifically to keep whatever was after Nyx and everyone after Gabriel from getting near.

The fallen looked strangely uncomfortable and he fidgeted again, grumbling about the rope. His foot slid forward some and touched the flames, making him scream in pain before pulling it back and looking over at the duo with annoyance and anger and Gabriel could have sworn he saw jealousy. "Best of a bad situation."

"Seriously? I know you're a bit nutty but what made you think coming to the house of one of the many siblings you have tried to murder would be a good idea?" Gabriel asked arms crossed, waiting for Lucifer's answer.

"Well you took in Nyx who obviously isn't normal," Lucifer said and immediately regretted it when another chopstick came flying at him; it narrowly missed his head but something told him it was not on accident that it didn't hit him.

"He probably figured because you're so kind that you'd help him too," Nyx spoke up putting a hand on Gabriel's shoulder; the golden archangel looked at her again and then again. It was nice of her to call him kind but he knew he wasn't really; he was the Trickster, he was an angel, he was too many things to be called kind. Yet Lucifer was right, he had taken in Nyx and it wasn't like he'd really had to either; he did it because he wanted to, he wanted to help her.

He tried to focus on why Lucifer would want him to help though. He was the second strongest archangel, weaker only than Michael the eldest; his abilities were legendary, his power immense...or was. It finally dawned on him that something did seem off about Lucifer; the wound in his shoulder was still open and his Grace was not as bright as it should be. Gabriel furrowed his brow and stood up, snapping his fingers to create a small localized rain storm above Lucifer; the Devil grumbled and hissed as the water hit him, drenching him, his chair and more importantly extinguishing the holy fire ring around him. The youngest archangel grabbed his brother's face in both his hands, forced him to look at him and focused, really focused.

Then pulled back, shocked. "Lucifer, what happened to you?"

"Gabriel?" Nyx asked confused.

Lucifer turned his gaze away and Gabriel shook his head. "Your wings are one thing but your Grace..."

"It's nothing..."

"Nothing?" Gabriel exclaimed, finding himself more upset than he really expected of himself in this situation, "Lucifer, you're the Morningstar, you were the brightest of all Father's angels; your Grace is supposed to radiate more light than any others, even Michael's paled in comparison!" he could remember it well, the image of his elder brother in all his glory, before the War, before the Fall, the way Lucifer's wings glowed glorious silver but in the light of the sun showed every color of the universe; he remembered the splendor of his brothers, of Heaven, of those old days when things were less tense and his brother, his favorite brother, wasn't sitting tied to a chair in a vessel covered in lesions.

"Thanks for reminding me, little brother," Lucifer grumbled, shifting uncomfortably, "I absolutely love being reminded of how nice I used to look. I have no idea what happened, okay? Everything was okay when I was in Sam and even when Castiel took Sam and separated the two of us nothing really changed; I followed them out, baby bro didn't really do anything to prevent that, and then when I woke up back in that lovely little ex-convent I was somehow back in Nicky's body and my Grace and wings were left like this."

Lucifer winced and Nyx watched as the lights flickered and shifted; Gabriel was frowning as Lucifer's wings unfurled. Or what remained of them; like Gabriel's the elder archangel had three sets but Nyx noted multiple differences. Gabriel's were each different but Lucifer's all seemed to be similar; likely once they had been long, longer and slimmer than even Gabriel's largest set. There were feathers that were certainly silver, beautiful and she couldn't pull her eyes away from them or the darker feathers, charred black and deep red, nor could she ignore the intricate symbols that seemed etched into the wings and feathers themselves, glowing low yet still notable. She wondered what they meant though she could feel like it was a grand secret, a warmth sort of story that bellied the cruelty the Devil was known for and the crimes the Morningstar had committed. Lucifer's wings were tattered, shabby, the feathers unsettled and some even hung loose, ready to fall, leaving bald spots where more had already left, littering the floor, but worse yet was the obvious pain he seemed to be in. They stretched and he bit back a whimper, they lightly flapped causing more feathers to fall and he took a deep breath.

It was the pain that made her step forward, leaving Gabriel's side to approach Lucifer; both watched her, the former with interest, the latter with confusion and suspicion. She tilted her head then reached out, gently touching the nearest of his wings; Gabriel's eyes widened, realizing the danger she might be in, and moved to try to pull her back but it was too late; his brother had already grabbed her the second her hand had made contact, the rope finally snapping as he gripped her wrist tight, his wings shuddering angrily as he glared at her.

"What made you think you could touch me?" he half hissed, standing up, looking down at her with eyes narrowed.

She whimpered and struggled, trying to get free. "I-I'm sorry, I just-"

"You just what?"

"Lucifer, let her go," Gabriel said and stepped forward, his wings expanding again, "She didn't mean any harm so don't you dare hurt her."

"I don't see a reason why I shouldn't." The fallen squeezed her wrist, making her cry out with pain and Gabriel growled at his brother; Lucifer seemed less than impressed, too annoyed by her action to care if his brother was upset or if Nyx didn't like the pain he was inflicting on him. Tears formed in her eyes and he smirked, pleased, amused and kept tightening his grip until finally Gabriel spoke again.

"Lucifer, stop it; look at your wing!" Lucifer grumbled but glanced and saw. Tendrils of smoky shadows, creeping around from the corners of the room, from under the furniture, curling weakly as it made its way upwards. It almost looked like demon smoke, the essence of the ex-humans who inhabited Hell, trying to tempt and hurt others, but Lucifer could feel it wasn't; he knew demons, he made the demons, and this, this wasn't demonic. He didn't know what it was; it moved slowly until it reached his wings and specifically the one that Nyx had touched, swirling around the spot before trying to move outward over the appendage. He instinctively shook his wing out, trying to get it to go away, and his grip on her loosened in response. Especially when it struck him that there wasn't pain when he did move his wing; whatever was happening was easing the tension and aches in his wing, allowing him to move it in and out once it occurred to him what was going on. He looked at Nyx and so did Gabriel, both archangels uncertain what to think; she was staring up at Lucifer with tearful eyes and sniffled a bit before he completely let go, still watching her. She ran back to Gabriel, she hid behind him, sniffling more and the shadows retreated almost immediately after; the fallen archangel furrowed his brow and frowned, "What is she, Gabriel?"

"I don't know," the younger brother said though as the elder stepped towards him, trying to approach Nyx he protectively shielded her, "I found her in a park hurt; she doesn't remember anything about herself, I figured I'd take her in while she was injured, makes it easier to pretend out in the suburbs when it's not just me."

"She's not a demon or an angel," Lucifer said and tilted his head; he sighed when she tried to bury her face in Gabriel's back, not looking at him. It was weird to feel bad but his suspicion was that what happened was no coincidence, "We'd know if she was either of those. Maybe a new creation of Eve's? Father knows that woman can't stop reproducing...things."

"She's not a monster, I'm certain of that," Gabriel retorted and the look his brother gave him made him frown, "Well I am. Besides how many monsters you know of have abilities that let them actually heal instead of hurting people? Eve's got skills but she's never made anything able to do anything but murder and destroy; that's sort of part of the whole Purgatory sort of schtick you know?"

"How do we know that for certain? Maybe she's a trap, a new kind of monster meant to trick idiots like you into letting them close and then killing you when you turn your back."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder at Nyx; her wings were quivering and he could feel her sobbing into his back. It was clear to him she was truthfully frightened and hurt by Lucifer and his words and actions; the archangel could see a bruise forming on her wrist already where his brother had held on far too tight. He moved very carefully, not wanting to startle her and he wrapped one of his wings around her comfortingly, remembering how that would make the fledglings feel better when they were upset; the soft warmth of his feathers seemed to soothe her, her own wings lowering and pulling as close as they could so his could get a better hold on her.

"I remember doing that to you when you were still tiny." Lucifer's words surprised Gabriel and he glanced over to see a strange sort of expression on his face. "Just a newborn angel, the last archangel; you were always the sweetest of us, Gabe. I remember this one time," the fallen smiled lightly, nostalgia in his eyes, "Raphael tried to teach you how to fly and you know how Raph could be; he's brilliant and a capable fighter but he's far from warm or great with kids. He tried dropping you from like a thousand feet above Heaven and you just wouldn't flap your wings. You kept giggling and laughing until you finally realized what was going on and even when you tried your wings were always so big and you didn't know how to use even one pair, not to mention all three, and I caught you right before you hit the ground. And there you were, bawling and clinging to my robes and making everything shake and shift with the power of your voice and I cradled you in one of my wings," as if to stimulate it one of his larger wings moved, a difficult thing with the pain they still had for him, "and I held you close while Michael scolded Raphael. We never told Dad but he knew."

Gabriel frowned, not sure what to say to that story. He wasn't sure there was anything he was even supposed to say anyway; he glanced at Nyx again who was still crying and then back at his brother. "Well Raphael always was a dick. And so are you; you should apologize to Nyx."

"I'm sorry," the Devil said, Gabriel not actually expecting him to comply; Lucifer shifted feet, "I shouldn't have gripped your wrist so tight, I just didn't expect to be touched. And I guess technically sort of I should be thankful for you apparently healing my wing?" He moved it again, still with no pain, "I still don't know what you are but you helped me and that's not a bad thing."

She didn't answer him, staying close to Gabriel and making him sigh. Awkwardly he stepped towards her, his wings lowering behind him so they were in a more docile position; he reached out a hand to her quietly and for a moment Nyx didn't do anything. But once it passed, slowly and with hesitation she lifted her own and took his hand. Lucifer gave a small smile and lifted his free hand to place it over the bruise forming on her skin; the words had barely formed in Gabriel's mouth before his brother had attempted to heal her only to have something spark at him, just as it had Gabriel when he had tried the same on her wing. Lucifer stopped and frowned again before looking at her. "Are you doing that?"

Nyx whimpered and shook her head. "N-no."

"Same thing happened to me when I tried healing her wing," Gabriel explained, wing draped around her shoulders, "I have no idea what it is but I don't think it's Nyx herself doing it."

"Why?" Lucifer inquired.

"Because why in the world would she try to keep herself from being healed? I mean it's been a week and her wound is healing fine but why keep me from speeding that along?" the Trickster said with a shrug, making her giggle lightly as his feathers brushed against her skin.

"Who knows," the Devil said and then looked back at the bruise, already during purplish; he honestly felt a bit guilty, for once in his very long existence. It wasn't like he was pure evil, not in his own mind at the very least, and it bothered him to look at the bruise.

Yet there it was; he lifted her hand, turning it so that he could kiss the top of it with the lightest of touches. Nyx blinked and blushed and Gabriel raised an eyebrow at his brother's actions, not trusting it even more when the older archangel gave another brighter smile, "Well whatever; we'll have time to figure it out later. I mean she's right after all."

"I am? About what?" she asked tilting her head,

"I came here because I figured the only one who would really help me right now would be my sweet little brother Gabriel," Lucifer said, "I am the Devil after all; humans won't trust me, and I don't want their help anyway. Angels will try to lock me up or worse try to kill or torture me once they realize how weakened I am right now. Same goes for the demons, ungrateful bugs, but what can you do with corrupted humans but expect trouble? Fuck the Winchesters cuz Dean probably would shoot me again and that's no fun. I figured who better to go to than the only brother I know of who's been able to repeatedly stay off Heaven's radar, can hide like a pro, the brother I taught how to fly and how to prank Michael and Raphael and our Father, who use to always call me Luci, who left Heaven because he didn't want to watch his family fight each other any longer," there was something sad in the Devil's smile and he shrugged, "Well, I don't have much fight in me right now so how about I join you and the little fledgling with her wings and her strange powers and we make ourselves our own little family here. I promise I'll only try to torture the humans in the neighborhood if they really deserve it, like if they look at our rose bushes weird or something."

Gabriel wanted to say no; he looked at Nyx and saw she was watching him, waiting to see what he would do or say. She probably wouldn't complain about whatever his decision was and truthfully he wanted to tell Lucifer to get out. But he couldn't; the words wouldn't form and honestly he couldn't bring himself to throw his brother out like he was right now. Weakened, his wings in tatters, no place to go, and Gabriel knew Lucifer never lied. Played with the truth yes, been known to using words to trick and fool but never lie. As his brother once told him, there was no point for Lucifer to lie when he could just manipulate words as he pleased. Lucifer said he didn't have much fight in him right now and Gabriel believed that.

But before he could say yes he still needed to know. "How did you find us though?"

"You mean through all your wards and symbols and spells?" Lucifer elaborated, letting go of Nyx's hand and the younger archangel nodded; his brother's smile grew playful and he sat back down, crossing one leg over the other, "I noticed you and Nyx flying around earlier; it was difficult for me but I was able to fly over here first, looked for the one house that practically glowed with Enochian. Your spells really have improved so much since you were a fledgling yourself, Gabby, I have to say I was impressed. The loophole that celestial beings can enter the house if accompanied by you or Nyx though seems like it might come back to bite you in the butt later. I mean Nyx is a sweetheart obviously; you're not careful and she could accidentally bring Raph home."

"I'm not about to let Raph into our home," Gabriel said with a smile of his own, "Bad enough we're letting the Devil stay."

Lucifer looked pleased with his brother's declaration and Nyx blinked before smiling as well. She stepped away from Gabriel's side, though his wing tips lingered on her shoulder, not yet wanting to let her go; she looked at Lucifer earnestly, seeming to have recovered from her previous fear. "Welcome then to our home, Lucifer, I hope we can be friends."

"Oh I'm sure we will be, Nyx," he practically purred, "I'm sure we will."


	5. A Treatise On Angels And Soft Things

"Lucifer," Gabriel said frowning as he watched the small boy run from their garden crying loudly, his shoes still slightly smoking, "When you said you'd torture the humans if they looked weird at the roses I figured you were joking."

"I never joke about gardening, dear little brother," the Devil said with all the confidence of the immortal powerful being who knew he had done wrong and did not care.

It was a beautiful sunny morning in the cul-de-sac and Gabriel had walked outside to find four things. Item one was Jamie, the seven year old son of their neighbor Maggie, crying loudly as his shoes were set ablaze by item two which was Lucifer who apparently, upon finding the boy throwing things at their rose bushes, decided the appropriate thing was to do item three which was set fire to item one's shoes. The result was something that looked to be funny to the Devil but to the Trickster came off as less "teaching a lesson" and more "being a troublesome dick". Which admittedly his brother had that one in the bag anyway, big bag of them he was.

Item four was Nyx, sitting beside Lucifer, looking concerned as she watched Jamie run away; Gabriel noted the fact that her injured wing, still covered by bandages, seemed a little loose on the binding and he made a mental note to rewrap them as soon as he could get the chance. But for the moment the more important thing to his mind, at that moment, was the fact that she had one of Lucifer's wings in her hands and those strange shadows were back, moving and swirling around her; from the night Lucifer had appeared at their house, when they realized what Nyx seemed capable of, it seemed like his brother was always trying to test her abilities. It wasn't even like Gabriel wasn't interested too, it had surprised him when she had seemed to heal his wing, though it turned out to be temporary pain relief but Lucifer had both materialized a kitten and, after letting Nyx get attached, killed said kitten, watching as she had cried loudly and taken the animal from him, holding it carefully only for her shadows to wrap around the tiny thing and seem to revive it from the precipice. Honestly not seeing the tiny golden furred kitten, lovingly referred to as Tricky by Nyx and Little Brother by Lucifer with the biggest shit eating grin, curled up next to her was also a surprise but not enough to worry him at the moment. Or at the very least it was not as concerning as Jamie and his burning shoes, and having to deal with explaining exactly that happened if the little boy told his mom about it and Gabriel was pretty certain he would.

"Gabriel," came the soft voice of the black winged not-angel and his attention was pulled back at Nyx; she looked at him with a worried sort of look, he didn't need to be an angelic mind reader to know what she was thinking. Though it certainly helped.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll go make sure he's okay; you both stay right here, alright? Do not leave the yard."

Though he said to them both the golden archangel's eyes and the soft threat to his words were directed specifically at his brother who simply smiled with an attempted innocent look while Nyx gave an understanding nod. Of course he expected her to do as asked, Nyx was a good girl who didn't often get into trouble, occasional distracted walks outside in the dead of night notwithstanding; it was Lucifer though that worried him and as Gabriel went to go find the boy and make sure he was okay, and erase his memory too, he trusted his brother almost as much as he trusted fake chocolate. Not at all.

Lucifer watched his brother run off in pursuit of the tiny human and couldn't help but scoff a little. Honestly he still didn't understand it; God had ordered them to bow to humanity and love them more than him. That was why Lucifer got thrown down into Hell after all, because for all of his faults, all his problems with his Father at times, he refused that simple thing. He refused to put humanity above his Father, above his brothers and sisters, and he knew that many more had agreed with him deep down; humans were weak, they were pathetic, bags of flesh and blood that spent their days hurting each other, themselves, their beautiful planet that the Father had been so kind as to give them, and scream up at the sky when things didn't go their way, blaming his Father for the faults that often were only their just desserts. The incident with the Seals had only made it more clear to him that even the angels, many of them at least, could see that humanity wasn't worth their love and admiration, their protection, and he was certain that Gabriel, his precious little brother, would have agreed. After all he'd been around them, dealt with the meatsacks; he'd spent years pretending to be a god of all things, using his precious Grace to punish idiot prideful humans in amusing and creative, and deadly, ways. Surely he of all angels would see Lucifer's side of things. But he hadn't; he'd stood up to Lucifer at the Hyperion, and now he was going after some snotnosed kid to fix what Lucifer had done and the fallen just did not understand it.

His wings fluttered as he furrowed his brow, looking after where his brother was, and the pain was there, it was always there and he was starting to get used to it, except when it wasn't there. He felt a now familiar coolness, spreading through one of his wings and he turned his head to look at Nyx to see her humming softly, still holding his partially feathered appendage, her shadows wrapped around her hands.

He didn't understand her either. It was fun to mess with her, like when he'd killed Tricky; he could recognize her as not being an angel but she wasn't like the flesh bags either. Her own wings were spread out, as they often were with one injured still, and she could do things with the shadows, and there was something sometimes, in the ruby color of her eyes, when she looked up at him that made him wonder whether she was a monster or something different. Lucifer had seen firsthand how protective his brother was but what confused him more was how he felt himself about her; she really was like a fledgling, being taught how to fly (again) by his brother, and truth be told Lucifer in the weeks that followed after his arrival, when his body had regained enough strength to follow them outside when they went on their nightly lessons, had taken to snarking and commenting, giving Nyx tips to frustrate Gabriel more. But she'd been so earnest and willing and he didn't really know what to do; he wanted to tease her honestly, like he teased Gabriel when he'd been little, like he used to tease all the fledglings before the war, before humans, before everything. That was part of why the Tricky thing had happened but he hadn't expected her to cry so much, nor to be bothered by it and honestly feel a bit bad about it; it felt the same as the time he'd accidentally hurt Castiel in a training session while the blue eyed angel had been still little and innocent, the same sort of pit in his Grace that made him uncomfortable until finally the kitten mewed again and everything seemed fine. Though Gabriel had looked ready to murder him and Nyx hadn't let him touch the kitten again for quite a while afterwards. But it had all been to try and tease her, get a reaction and he had even if it wasn't one he found he liked much.

Lucifer watched her, watch her hum and feel her fingers run through the burned feathers. It was hard to call what she was doing grooming; there were too many bald spots, too many places where the feathers had fallen away and still hadn't grown back in if they ever would. Yet there was a shudder that went through him that reminded him of how it felt to sit in Heaven, his wings spread out, looking up at the blue sky and bright warm sun as Michael or Gabriel brushed their fingers through loose feathers, helped him to groom his massive wings. He doubted Gabriel would be so willing to do so again if he asked and Lucifer didn't plan on asking.

He shuffled his wing some, feeling the usual lack of pain that followed one of Nyx's "treatments" and she blinked, feeling the feather brush against her face; she smiled some and soothed them out before. "Thank you, Lucifer."

"Thank you? For what, fledgling?" It had become all too easy to co-op Gabriel's favorite term for her and watching her own wings show her reaction, spreading as much as they could, fluffing and then folding back in carefully, made the second eldest archangel smirk just a bit.

"You're letting me touch your wings," she said and he was taken aback; the young woman smiled more, "You didn't like me touching you at first, especially your wings."

"Yeah well when your wings look like mine you don't tend to like people even paying them mind. Besides letting you touch them means I can have less pain for a while and let's me observe your powers at work, win-win." He didn't state that he liked the feel of her semi-grooming his ruined wings, that he was thankful for her help or anything else; he lightly tugged his wing against her hands and she seemed to understand, taking another one now and doing the same to it as she had to the one she had held before. Nyx was a quick study, it pleased Lucifer truthfully and he was willing to allow her to keep touching his wings and using her powers on him as long as it kept making him happy. He was even willing to ignore how intimate it was, the act of letting her, letting anyone, touch his wings, especially as they were now; there was an element of trust that he refused to admit to, not trusting anyone in the end. It was to make his wings stop hurting, it was something he could stop at any time, whenever he wanted, and would at his own whim. Yet he let it continue and he would let it, because he told himself it benefited him more to let his wings be touched than to admit to the weakness of letting her have access to something as precious as these.

As she did her work, and as Lucifer waited for Gabriel to return so he could find some other new way to make his brother upset with him, he took to some people watching. Things were peaceful in the neighborhood and he could see why his brother choose this place; perhaps because of the Enchonian symbols on the house, the spells the youngest archangel had put up to protect the house and them, or maybe because there didn't seem like there was anything there that could much interest monsters, but in the time he'd been there, since he came topside and found his way to where Gabriel was hiding, he hadn't seen anything of their kind. He knew the golden archangel worried, saw how sometimes he watched Nyx a little too carefully, especially at night, but as far as he could tell everything was safe. Too safe he wanted to cause trouble, see some chaos; he wanted to drive the meatbags crazy but as it was he could just barely muster the energy to set fire to the kid's shoes. His wings were in tatters and his Grace was weak; he wasn't the Devil so much as he was a fledgling himself, a very old, very grumpy fledgling. He refused to acknowledge that Gabriel, by letting him say, had done him a favor; though he had said he'd come to look for the brother who would take him in now, it had gone over mainly as a joke but it was in many ways true. Lucifer couldn't fly very well as he was right now, and he couldn't fight much; he could conjure little things but he needed rest, relaxation, time to recover and gather his strength before trying again to take over the world. Maybe find Sammy, take his body back; it hadn't escaped his notice that when Castiel took Sam he had left something behind, something very important. Guilt wasn't something Lucifer often indulged in, there was no point when he saw little wrong with his actions, Tricky and Nyx notwithstanding, but even he had felt a bit uncertain leaving Sam's soul there with Michael; he half thought perhaps he should tell Gabriel about how their oldest brother was now, the madness he had given into when he had become trapped in the Cage too, a place made for Lucifer, one he had grown all too used to ultimately but Michael? Oh the great and powerful eldest son, God's greatest warrior, he had snapped like a twig. And now Sam's soul was alone with him and Lucifer, Lucifer almost felt guilty about it.

Watching the old woman from across the street walk out to water her plants, a mundane sight that made him want to yawn, he turned his eyes back to Nyx. Or more specifically, to her wings. While she spent time tending to his, partially of her own voliation but occasionally from his prompting, he barely paid hers much mind; after all Gabriel was more than willing to do that, being the attentive mother hen he was amused at times to see his youngest archangel brother be, and other times was annoyed by. But looking at them he took note of the blue hue to them, the size and shape were almost cute, resembling almost the wings of that bird the humans seemed so obsessed with, he believed they called it the nightingale, but more than enough for her to be able to fly with them. When the bandages were completely off she might even be able to keep up with them but it amused him when his brother would take her out for lessons and she ended up falling and faltering, her wings barely able to hold her for nearly as long as theirs could but she was still injured and she was still recovering, it was only be to expected she couldn't fly as long or as fast or hard as they could. Still it didn't escape his eyes, like he thought to himself it seemed to have somehow escaped Gabriel's, that there was some stiffness to her wings and he could guess why that was.

"Fledgling," he spoke and she blinked, looking at him with her head tilted a bit, waiting it seemed for him to go on, "My brother made you a room didn't he?"

Nyx looked confused by the inquiry but nodded. Angels didn't really need to rest all that often, definitely not as often as humans did, but Lucifer acknowledged the fact that normal angels none of them were; Lucifer was weak, Gabriel had lived on earth for perhaps too long, and Nyx, Nyx wasn't an angel at all. As it were then they all slept, to varying degrees and with varying amounts of willingness. The elder archangel wasn't super excited by the fact that his depowered form, his weakened state, his tired vessel, it all led up for him needing at times to just close his eyes for a while and recharge; to date he mainly slept on the couch but that had been part of his own problems and sort of how he guessed at why her wings were so stiff. After all she couldn't fold them in, probably had to keep them at least partially unfurled at all times while the wound healed, and Lucifer could just guess that his humanized brother, who had no worried about his wings, who had spent far too much time around the flesh bags and their heathen gods, had forgotten something important about spread wings and the things humans called beds. It was all well and good for an archangel whose wings were perfectly healthy, full capable of being folded in, for make use of the things, though Lucifer didn't like them much personally, but for those whose wings couldn't? For Lucifer who found pain moving his wings around at all when Nyx's magic wore off, beds were far from comfortable. Really more the opposite.

"Can I see it?" Nyx smiled and nodded again before looking to his wing.

"After I'm done?" she asked and he shook his head; he shifted his wings, letting more feathers come loose as he got to his feet; one such feather, stained black, landed on her nose and she twitched, looking like she was about to sneeze.

She didn't though and he smirked down at her, offering a hand. "No, fledgling, I'd like to see your room now, while Gabby is too busy pretending to be a good samaritan."

"Oh okay, alright," Nyx said to him and took his hand, letting him help her up to her feet before going into the house with him, leading him upstairs and to the room that Gabriel had set up for her, the one she slept in at night.

It wasn't terribly decorated, the sort of room that made it clear she barely spent time in it; there was a desk with a chair, a bookshelf with some books on it, and a bed, a rather nice one at that. It was a queen, large enough to be able to hold her and far more, but Lucifer didn't have to think hard to know her wings probably hung off the sides regularly.

He hummed softly and she looked at him, trying to read his expression and figure out what he might be thinking about. She didn't know what he was planning, asking to see her room; Gabriel made it pretty clear that his brother was trouble and it wasn't like she could easily forget all the things he'd done thusfar; she could see Tricky curled up on the windowsill, looking to be slumbering peacefully in the sunlight and she was tempted to go to the little kitten and hold him protectively. But it also occurred to her that her hand was still in his and Nyx wasn't sure what he might do if she tried to pull herself free; would Lucifer let her or would he just hold her even tighter, refuse to let her go? Or maybe even just run over to hurt her sweet little kitten again, even if he was the one who brought Tricky to her.

She was stuck between speaking out, asking him what was on his mind, and just continuing to watch him when he spoke finally, turning his head to look at her with a mischievous grin, and for a moment he looked strangely very much like Gabriel. "Hey Nyx you wanna help me with something?"

The winged girl blinked again, furrowing her brow before smiling softly and nodding again. She didn't know what he was up to yet but she figured it couldn't be too bad. She hoped at least.

Gabriel sighed and quickly realized upon returning that neither his elder brother nor Nyx were sitting on the lawn where he left them, where he'd told them to stay. His first thought, immediate and aggressive, was that his ever dangerous, even when weakened as he was, brother had taken the innocent girl and ran off to cause chaos, completely ignoring his instruction not to leave the yard; he recognized that Lucifer was still Lucifer and Gabriel was Gabriel. The Lightbringer had rarely listened to him before, not since before certain incidents, not since they'd been far younger and far less aware of the intricacies of existence.

There was a part of him that missed when he had been able to trust Lucifer, able to remember in the corners of his memory a kinder Lucifer, an angel with the most beautiful smile, who loved his brothers, loved his sisters, loved their Father most of all; Gabriel the golden archangel, youngest of the first four, he understood why Lucifer had rebelled, in the same way he understood why Michael had cast him down, why the other angels had tried for the apocalypse, why Castiel had tried so hard to find their absentee father. He understood it all like how a human might understand the fact that if they closed their eyes at night they'd seen darkness and if they opened them in the day they'd see light, but that didn't mean he truly could. In the same strain he didn't like it either, any of it; after all the fighting, the blood, the violence, the sight of those he loved killing each other and God doing nothing but watching, it was why he'd left in the end.

But that was then, and to a degree still now considering his whole witness protection situation; what was more important or even just urgent was the fact that Lucifer was missing now and so was Nyx and Gabriel didn't like any of that. Frowning he looked around the yard in hopes they had just moved spots, then checked into the sections of the cul-de-sac that were the easiest to see to; he hoped to catch sight of them, that if they had left they hadn't gone far, but it seemed no such luck and he sighed again in exhaustion.

Then he heard the crash and his head turned quickly to stare up at the house, towards the window that his memory told him was for Nyx's room. The curtains were drawn but Tricky was visible running from the window and the Trickster raised an eyebrow before making his way inside and up the stairs. He had no idea what that crash could mean, though every part of him told him it couldn't be anything good really. He was tempted to be upset that they were causing trouble without him, the more Trickstery part of the archangel, a natural aspect of his being that couldn't resist looking for trouble, looking for ways to entertain himself and nurtured by millenia around humans and punishing them for their worst aspects. Maybe in part it was him feeling antsy; though he'd been annoyed by Lucifer's actions against Jesse, and he certainly didn't think of it as necessary or good, it wasn't like he hadn't been feeling some cabin fever of a sort. He hadn't really had many cases of reasons to punish anyone in the neighbor and with all the babysitting he'd been having to do, especially with the Devil around, he was getting bored. Going out to make sure the little boy didn't get too hurt, and that he didn't tell his mom that the weird guy from Gabriel's house seemed to have been the one to set fire to his shoes anyway, and coming back to find Lucifer and Nyx missing and something going on in her room, that didn't really make him feel any better. Not less bored at least and certainly not less antsy.

What he saw when he opened the door to her room and looked inside made the demigod stop for a moment and just stare. Tricky ran past his feet like his own paws were on fire and there was dust in the air, probably from the rubble of what Gabriel could only guess used to be Nyx's bed; after all he didn't see it anymore, just broken pieces of wood and fabric and the mattress, laying in the middle of a sea of things. Things was the best way he could think to describe it; from when he had been outside to actually reaching the room Lucifer, he was certain it was his brother who had done it, had pulled down the curtains and they were on the ground along with all the blankets, pillows, what seemed to be all of the clothes Gabriel had conjured up for Nyx so far and the various stuffed animals that he had summoned up one night in a moment of whim that upon seeing how much it made the winged girl smile had ended with a large collection of varying sizes and type. Seeing Gabriel in the door Nyx who was holding one of said stuffed toys, a stuffed platypus that she had developed an especially strong attachment to, and stared at him with wide surprised eyes.

"Oh hi Gabby~" For his part Lucifer seemed far less concerned by his younger brother's arrival and he was grinning, holding what the golden archangel suspected was once one of the posts to Nyx's bed; his wings were out and they shuddered some upon noticing Gabriel, seeming to be under the influence of her magic once more.

It took him a moment but finally Gabriel got out the words he wanted to say, "What did you do, Lucifer?"

"A little redecorating, nothing too major," Lucifer mused and placed one of the post against the ground before stepping down on it, managing to snap it in two, causing Nyx to nearly jump at the sound.

Gabriel frowned. "Nyx's room? You broke her bed because you wanted to redecorate?"

"I'm sorry, Gabriel," she spoke up and he turned to look at her. He was surprised honestly, his own wings expanding a little and lifting slightly before lowering and he shook his head.

"You don't need to apologize, fledgling," he told her and she looked sheepish; he though turned to his brother, "I somehow get the feeling that this whole thing was his idea."

"Gabriel, do you remember how it was in heaven or have you been hiding out among the meat bags too long?" Lucifer inquired, taking his brother back off his guard.

At first he didn't answer, unsure with where the fallen angel was going with it. Ultimately though and carefully speaking Gabriel gave his response, nodding slowly, "Of course I do, Lucifer; how can I ever forget? I might have lived down here for a long time but not nearly enough to make me forget home."

The eternally blue sky, the gentle weather, the training grounds where fledglings learned to fly, to fight, to use their powers properly; Gabriel didn't even need to close his eyes to be able to see the place he'd once called home, that once pure place that with the fighting, the constant arguments, everything that had happened, had just became far too hard to stay in. His beautiful and tainted home; it made his heart hurt to remember and it in some ways just made him angry that Lucifer would bring it back now. After all he was a big part of why the golden archangel didn't feel like he could go home anymore, one of many reasons.

"Why bring that up now? And what does that have to do with breaking Nyx's bed and making a mess of her room?" Lucifer smiled and there it was again, same as that first night when he'd arrived, when he'd spoken about Gabriel's learning to fly, and there was that glimpse of the brother he once knew, the brother who had taken care of him, protected him, raised him. Raphael had never been much for dealing with others and Michael tried but it had always been Lucifer, with his shimmering wings and beautious smile, that shining beacon, God's favorite son, that had always been Gabriel's too. Michael had felt betrayed by what Lucifer did, and the youngest knew the eldest felt great pain over what he had had to do under God's order, but at the same time there were times when he wondered if Michael ever could understand how much more it pained Gabriel to lose the one who had cared so deeply for him, not simply his brother but his mentor and caretaker. He wondered if their older brother could ever understand, and he wondered now how much it pained Gabriel to see that mentor reflected in the eyes of the fallen, the Devil, the ex-archangel with the ruined wings and cruel disposition.

"Humans like laying on their confined little spaces, thinking them soft and cushioned," Lucifer said almost as if he didn't hear him though still was that smile and he nudged the mattress with his foot, wings quivering slightly, "But do you remember my nest? Or yours? Do you remember our rooms back in heaven, soft, warm, comforting? I used to think about mine a lot when I was in the Cage, when I was alone of course; I would play over and over those days, every little stupid thing I once took for granted because our Dad never told what was in store. I would replay when He brought you into existence and you fell asleep nestled in my wings so I had to take you back with me to my nest and then it happened over and over. I would think of every night I spent in that room, my wings spread out, the feel of the clouds, of the blankets and pillows and the way they smelled, the way they sounded, the off white color, everything. In that dark maddening place, I just tried to remind myself of the things I once thought of as too simple to care about and that I no longer had but that I told myself one day, one day I'd have again. When I escaped the Cage, when I defeat Michael, when I raze the earth and bring heaven back to me, I would just lay in my nest again and feel...I don't know."

The longing in his voice made Gabriel's frown grow, and Nyx stepped over to him, reaching up to touch him but stopping short, her fingers hovering centimeters from his shoulder before curling back and she dropped it again. For his part the Devil either didn't notice or choose to ignore it, looking down at the scattered items again, still smiling in that soft way despite the pain evident in his voice.

"Nyx's wings looked sore to me," He finally said again after another moment of silence, awkward, stilted quiet, "Stiff, and it occurred to me that her wings can't fold properly right now. They're rather large for her size, they remind me a lot of a real fledgling, their wings almost always too large for their bodies though yours were ridiculous; you were born to be fast Gabriel and those wings of yours, those wings of yours were always built for it even if you didn't know how to use them when Raphael dropped you like he did. But hers are injured and I couldn't help but think about how my wings hurt too and how much I miss my nest and how nice it is to be able to relax your wings when you sleep, let them lay out as they wish, maybe not entirely sprayed of course but I saw that bed, Gabriel. I doubt Nyx has been able to fully relax laying in it; I sure as hell couldn't, could you?"

Gabriel didn't answer, looking over at Nyx to see her response. She fiddled with her platypus instead, looking down; it was more than enough of an answer, more than enough for him at the very least to be able to understand the truth of the matter. And his own stupidity honestly; he should have thought of it himself and perhaps he had been on Earth too long. He had become comfortable on the human beds, his wings folded away though even he had to admit to sometimes waking up on the ground, his wings unfurled slightly and laying over his half naked form like soft feathery blankets, and how weirdly comfortable that had been. But nowhere as good as how his nest had felt in heaven, and he understood Lucifer's point though the destruction of the bed, the tornado that had gone through this room, he was intent on not giving that one to his big brother. He was stubborn like that.

"So you wrecked her bed, threw a bunch of stuff on the ground, to make yourself a makeshift nest?" he asked the fallen, eyebrow raised.

Lucifer nodded. "And Nyx. She can share it."

"It looks to be largely her things so I'd say it's largely her nest, not yours."

"Well it's not like I have a lot of stuff." The pout that came over his older brother's face made it hard for Gabriel not to crack a smile and he half-snorted in amusement; shaking his head and trying his best to not let Lucifer see his amusement he turned to Nyx again.

"Nyx," he said and she looked up at him near immediately, crimson meeting golden hues, "Do you want a nest or would you rather I fix your room?"

"I don't want to be any trouble," she said shaking her head and holding the platypus tighter, "You were kind enough to set up this room for me so..."

"If it was a trouble I wouldn't ask," he tried to assure her with a smile, "Believe me, not the kind of guy to do anything that requires too much out of me." Fake sacrifice to save the Winchesters notwithstanding of course, or the fact he'd put quite a bit of energy into painting over the Enochian seals and spells on the house, or that he didn't even need to bring her here but even knowing something in the dark wanted her the Trickster had still chosen to take in Nyx, keep her here, give her what she needed to be comfortable. Maybe he was less lazy than he liked to think of himself being, at least that's what a little voice in his head was telling him.

Nyx bit her lip and looked over at Lucifer for a moment before turning back to Gabriel. "I-I don't think I've ever had a nest before but I'm sure if we made it together it would probably not be too bad."

Gabriel smiled more at that and went over to ruffle her hair some. Sometimes he worried about her honestly; her memory issues, her injury, she seemed almost too willing to do things to hide her own feelings if she felt it might conflict with what she believed he would be happy with. As much as it often left him without much to have to do, and freedom to do what he wanted, when it ended with her getting stomach aches or realizing that the sleeping situation he'd put her into without really thinking about it might have made her wings ache more from the awkwardness of it, then it just made him worry more in the end. She looked up at him, an innocent trusting sort of look and for the thousandth time he thought of the fledglings.

He grinned and raised a hand, snapping his fingers and Lucifer nearly fell as the wood post he'd been holding against the ground disappeared. All the rubble of the bed, the wooden and metal portions at the very least, slipped out of existence, leaving over the mattress and softer portions; in addition more blankets and pillows appeared, cloth and cushions of all sizes and colors, all over the room, and his wings expanded to their full size. Nyx's eyes glued to them, as always in awe of the gold and slight tarnishes, and Lucifer looked away purposefully, trying to force down the jealousy that made his own wings shudder and try to fold around his body almost defensively.

"Well then people, let's get to work; this nest won't make itself after all." She beamed at his words and both she and the Devil nodded before they all started to move, pulling on objects to move them into place.

It was late afternoon when the trio collapsed into their prize. At some part, by some miracle of Gabriel's Grace, perhaps some remnant of Lucifer's or portion of Nyx's magic, or maybe even a combination of all three, the room seemed to have gotten far bigger than it had been before. Yet the house didn't change outwardly, a change in space and time only made possible by two archangels and whatever Nyx was. Whatever the cause or reason it didn't matter to them and Lucifer made a noise that almost sounded like a purr as he let his wings expand and shuffle against the mass of blankets and pillows, clothes and fabric, stuffed cats and dogs and mooses and squirrels, and even feathers. Feathers had gotten everywhere, a mixture of his own with Gabriel's and Nyx's, a mass of downy blue tinted black with glimmering soft gold and marred silver; something in his head said he should be bothered by just how many of his feathers were laying about, worried by the molting, yet at the same time he found himelf more interested in how wonderful it felt to have somewhere to rest and feel at peace again. It wasn't his nest but it was good enough for now he decided.

Gabriel plopped down, arms and wings spread at his sides and he grinned, looking up at the ceiling before turning his head to glance over at Nyx. The winged girl was curled up on her side with a smile all her own, holding once more to the platypus and a plantive mew then shifting of soft things preceded the arrival of Tricky who upon reaching his master curled up as well. Nyx looked happy and reached out to pet the tiny kitten before looking over at Gabriel again.

"Good huh?" he asked and she giggled before nodding.

"It feels so," she started but seemed unsure of what the words were to describe it; she was happy and it felt so comfortable. Her wings were out spread behind her, stretching and lightly flapping, not trying to fly but simply trying to gauge the new space; every inch of the room was full, a massive nest that part of Gabriel's mind tried to tell him was still mainly hers but honestly he didn't want to move. He liked it there and he found he didn't really dislike the idea of staying, resting there.

"Amazing is one word I'd use," Lucifer said and grinned, "You should say thank you, both of you."

"Yeah thanks ya big bag of dicks," Gabriel said with a smirk and closed his eyes, yawning.

"Thank you Lucifer," Nyx said and pulled herself up to crawl over to him; the Devil watched her very carefully, wondering what she was up to right up to when she leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek, giving him a light kiss.

The Devil did not blush and there was no proof of such an event happening. The sweetness of the gesture and the kind smile she gave him before making her way back to where Tricky was was enough to make him almost want to gag but at the same time he did smile and figured he'd let her have that one. It was nice after all, knowing how messed up Nick's body was, that she was still willing to give his cheek a kiss like that, and more so that despite everything, what he had done to her, what he had done to everyone, that she could still smile and be so sweet to him like that.

He closed his eyes too and Nyx yawned before laying down beside the kitten who had already dozed off himself among the nest of soft things. And though it was just the afternoon and the sun was still in the sky, even though there was still the rest of the day and the night to do things, the Devil, the Trickster and the amnesiac all decided that for their good work they would take a nap. Just a little one, just for a bit.


	6. New Arrivals Bring New Fun

Darkness was all around but the words echoed in his mind, or what was left of his mind, as he floated there.

"Yes...I'll always have you."

The words played, over and over. The events played, over and over. There was something in there, something he felt he should realize or at the very least think about, but it wouldn't come to him; it was hard to think, but he supposed the fact he could even think that was a miracle. He just wished, truly that those last words wasn't all he could hear, that all he could really think about was that final moment, that last fleeting moment, before the life had left him and he had really fallen.

He didn't expect to fall again.

Gabriel was not entirely sure what started it but when he walked into the living room to find Lucifer yelling and holding Nyx down, her uninjured and injured wings alike smacking him, and incidentally causing the bandages to come undone yet again, he was split between two thoughts. That his brother had finally shown his crazy self and Gabriel would need to put him down, and that Nyx's wing was never going to heal if she kept trying to beat Lucifer in the head with it, even though it was honestly almost entirely healed by now. But it was that final bit that worried him. There was a minor third thought that involved Lucifer possibly doing something completely inappropriate with her but he was really not mentally prepared enough to start exploring the idea that his brother, with all the times he would end up curled up with Nyx in the nest, to the point Gabriel had taken to sleeping more just to try and break them up, or the times he stole Gabriel's preferred nickname for her, or when Lucifer just generally treated her nicer than he did any of the humans, might actually have any wanting to do anything to the ever innocent Nyx. Or think he could with the Trickster around to make sure everything didn't go as he wanted.

He stood there in the doorway, a sucker in his mouth, both eyebrows raised as he watched the two fight, Lucifer looking quite upset over something or other, before finally with a shake of his head walking over and trying to separate them. If they were humans it might have been a little easier, but between angelic strength, Lucifer's to be exact, and wings everywhere, four separate pairs not including Gabriel's own, it was going about as well as trying to separate two fighting cats. And it took far more energy than the golden archangel was honestly comfortable with putting into this. Yet still he tried and still he persisted and ultimately he managed to pry one from the other, forcing Lucifer to one side and Nyx to the other before speaking, "Alright, alright now, what are you two troublemakers up to?"

"Nothing," Nyx said quickly, too quickly; she was frowning and held her uninjured win carefully, staring up at him sheepishly.

"Nothing my ass!" Lucifer yelled, looking frustrated and annoyed, his own wings shuffling behind him; Nyx's soothing power seemed to have gained some strength as her wing had healed as well, and the pain relief lasted a bit longer now, allowing him more useage for more time. Still Gabriel wasn't stupid, he could see that while she was getting better his older brother didn't seem to be; his Grace was still weak, his wings were still badly damaged and sometimes when Gabriel was certain Lucifer thought no one was looking, he would get this look on his face as he pulled one of his tattered wings close to stroke the sensitive raw skin that peaked out here or there. The Trickster knew his brother hated to think about others seeing him be weak, or the very fact that he really was such right now; he could use his powers to a degree, to mess with the neighbors, to do some things but ultimately not much. It was strange to Gabriel, seeing his older brother, second strongest of the archangels, unable to be able to do more than even the youngest, than a normal angel; it was a contradiction of what he had always believed before, that Lucifer was strong, that Lucifer was capable, that Lucifer, the Morningstar, was beautiful whether he was an angel up in Heaven or the Devil down in Hell. But he was sure that it was far worse to Lucifer.

Nyx whimpered a bit as the elder archangel yelled and her wings moved closer to her, wrapping around her best they could with the bandages that still hung on them; Gabriel had taken note that she tended to do that, her wings liking to curl around her body in an attempt at self-comforting, protection. Her fingers seemed to move to entwine in the feathers and the golden archangel thought at first that like Lucifer she was trying to stroke them, he'd seen her do it before after all, and it seemed to him a normal enough reaction to being uncomfortable or even scared, to try to calm oneself by feeling your feathers under your fingertips. He would admit to himself at least that he tended towards the same behavior on occasion too, more than once finding himself drawing his fingers over the black markings, the smudges formed from his own gray morality acts, the streak from when Lucifer had fallen before him and burned his Grace into his younger brother's.

So when he realized she wasn't simply touching them or stroking them, but that her fingers had actually curled in and seemed to be pulling, tugging, almost as if to try to remove them. And it became all too clear what Lucifer had been fighting with her about; Gabriel frowned and both angels moved to grab her, Gabriel grabbing her wrist and holding it tight, looking her in the eye.

"Nyx, I told you not do that again, didn't I tell you not to do that?" he said sternly, a tinge of hurt in his voice and she tried to not look at him.

Lucifer grabbed her face, forcing her to face them as he spoke with much more aggressive, "Why would you even do that? Don't you recognize how lucky you are, to have healthy wings, all your feathers? Don't you dare rip them out like they're nothing!"

"Lucifer," she whimpered again, seeming to be in pain as he gripped her head in his hand, "Please..."

"Your wing might be injured but it will still heal, it can still heal; you'll be able to fly like Gabriel one day, you'll be able to soar and you won't always be in pain. Your feathers aren't falling out on their own, so don't you dare force them too, do you understand? Do you understand?!" He yelled at her again and Nyx started to cry, causing Gabriel to look from his fragile charge to his troublesome older brother, from the tiny girl with the injured wings to the terrifying fallen angel with the broken ones.

And he took a deep breath before pulling them apart once more, giving Lucifer a look before turning to her once more. "Why would you do that anyway? That can't be comfortable, trying to pull out your feathers like that." He thought they had been over this; since that first night when he first saw her do that and he told her not to he hadn't seen the behavior again. He had thought it was over but it bothered Gabriel that obviously it wasn't, it wasn't over and she kept doing it anyway. He thought she was happy, but if she really felt the need to do that to herself...

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, tears in her eyes, "I-I just...I..."

"Fledglings always do that when they're young and stupid," Lucifer said sharply, arms crossed now as his wings quivered once more and tried folding partially at his sides, "For someone who isn't an actual angel as far as we can tell she certainly can act like one sometimes. You used to do it too when you were young, Gabriel."

"I did it a lot after you left," Gabriel admitted and Lucifer seemed to freeze for a moment, simply staring at his brother; the golden archangel felt his wings move, pull closer to his body and he refused now himself to look at his older brother, "It's a stress thing for me; I always find myself picking at my feathers when I'm feeling...unstable I guess," it was hard, in many ways for many reasons, to voice what he was saying; the explanation for why he'd do it, the emotions that came with it, it was hard to tell any angel about it and he never really had before now. He laughed bitterly, "I guess I shouldn't really scold her for it then, considering I do it too, but still."

Still it bothered him, seeing her exhibit that same self-harming behavior, and having no idea why.

"Gabriel," Nyx said gently and reached out to him, "I-I promise it's not that, I'm not unhappy I promise; you've never been anything but kind to me, I'm sorry. I just...sometimes I just feel like doing it. I don't know, it's just a thing. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you and Lucifer upset."

Lucifer made a face and reached up to scratch his head, unsure at first what to say or really how he felt to hear he had inadvertently caused his younger brother to actually mutilate his wings in stress and emotional anguish with his rebelling and subsequent fall. It wasn't something to apologize for after all. "To be fair it's not like I haven't been known to do it too. I mean back before my wings didn't look like this; it's really a common thing for young angels to do. But it's not a good thing, you both know that right? It's bad for your wings, especially when they're still healing like yours are Nyx; excessive plucking can damage the nerves and removing your feathers before they are ready to fall out can cause problems when it's supposed to be time for new feathers to come in."

"I'm aware of that," Gabriel said refusing to look at his brother at the moment.

"Yet you still do it."

"Well you just admitted you do too."

"I said I did before my wings looked like they were permanently stuck in the middle of molting." The elder archangel's tone was snappy and there may have been a time when Gabriel would have winced, shied away at the annoyance in his brother's voice, or worried over the pain. He understood it, he understood why it frustrated the fallen to see Nyx pulling out her feathers like she did, he understood why it annoyed the devil to know his younger brother had the same habit, had indulged in it when Lucifer had been cast into the Cage. And Gabriel knew how much that had to hurt Lucifer to know that he had caused it; the once Lightbringer might not like humans, he might be a big bag of dicks, he might be a lot of trouble, but he had always loved his brothers and even in the Hyperion Hotel, it had been all too clear to the youngest of the archangels that it killed Lucifer any time he had to hurt one of them.

Nyx looked to Lucifer and then to Gabriel, unsure what to do or say in the moment. She didn't understand much of it, though she could tell that her actions had caused trouble for both of them, brought up memories and truths that neither seemed really willing to talk much about; her wings twitched and tried to fold around her again, her fingers moving before she caught herself and forced them back at her sides. The urge pulled at the edges of her mind, a strange compulsion that she truly didn't know why she felt the need to give into at times, but she meant it when she said she didn't mean to make them upset. Nyx didn't want to make them unhappy, not these two.

She opened her mouth to say something, trying to pull them both out of whatever dark place their minds were slipping towards but she was interrupted; there was a noise outside and she turned her head to look towards the door before turning to them again. Neither seemed to notice immediately and the black winged girl glanced towards the entryway again before making her way towards the front yard. Both angels noticed this and Gabriel blinked for a moment before frowning and speaking, stepping forward to go after her, "Nyx, wait!"

His immediate thought was not about the noise; rather the first thing that came to his mind was those nights when she would wander outside on her own, as if called to by some strange force. It worried him and he looked at his brother for a moment before trying to follow her, to try and stop her. He had no idea what she was doing, why she was walking away right now or why she was making her way outside but then again he didn't understand a lot about her; the girl was as much of a mystery now, a good month or so after that first night, as she was that first time they met. Even if her clothes certainly did cover up much more of her.

He didn't need to turn around to know Lucifer was holding up the rear of the tiny congo line outside and the golden archangel found his attention moving quickly from Nyx, leaning down in their front yard with the moon shining down on them, to the figure that lay there, motionless. And a pair of long gray wings that seemed to shimmer silver in the moonlight and set off all sorts of alarms in Gabriel's mind. He was tempted to think at first it was someone like Nyx, whatever she was, but Lucifer spoke up first, stepping past him and towards the unconscious being, "Another angel?"

"Is he?" Gabriel asked feeling a bit stupid and his brother looked at him.

"He's weak but you can sense it too right? Or are you too focused on our fledgling to be able to notice it?" Lucifer responded.

The Trickster frowned a little then closed his eyes, trying to focus. He could feel it, a tinge in the air, weak as Lucifer said, even weaker than the fallen's was, but still present, still existent. The unmistakable signature of Grace, the proof of an angel, and as he continued to focus on it, feel it, it struck him who it was. And the memory of a young angel he once knew, his fledgling, one of the many he himself had raised, caused his heart to ache.

"Balthazar," he spoke almost breathless and he found himself going to join Nyx; she had her hands out and the shadows that seemed to answer her call were moving about from their hiding spots, curling once more around her and around the motionless angel that once Gabriel knew, the one God had given the name Balthazar.

Last he had seen him had been a long time ago, and he certainly did not recognize this vessel; it was young, perhaps a little too young. He looked to be somewhere in his teens, his spiky dark blond hair cut relatively short; his clothes hung a bit heavy on him and between his shoulder blades, between his long wings stretched out on either side of him, seemed to be a third hole, one that made his mind stop for a moment as he thought of what could have made it and coming up with only one idea. Especially when his eyes made note of the scar that lay there, perfectly sized for a specific kind of blade.

"Balthazar? As in one of the younger angels?" Lucifer asked raising an eyebrow; Gabriel nodded and the fallen clicked his tongue, "What is he doing here? Shouldn't he still be up in heaven or something?"

"I don't know," Gabriel said.

"He's in a vessel isn't he?" Nyx asked, her voice soft as she turned her gaze to the two elder angels, "I mean I don't really know how angels work..."

"No, you're right, he's definitely wearing some kid," Lucifer said arms crossed, "Like an actual kid...Wonder why he choose this one."

"Maybe it's his true vessel," Gabriel responded though he had to admit to thinking it odd as well; as far as he remembered Balthazar had always seemed like the type to prefer things that traditionally most angels didn't. It had not been uncommon even when the angel had been a mere fledgling for Gabriel to find him sipping the ambrosias of the humans, indulging in the more mature things in life; the golden archangel had always chalked it up to his influence, his fledglings always seeming to be the strangest of souls he found. But that he in turn blamed on being raised on the one who would become Satan; everything was always Lucifer's fault in the end.

Still the idea that Balthazar would willingly choose a young vessel, one that looked far too young to be able to partake of the things that Gabriel remembered him always enjoying back when they had all been together still, something felt off about it. Not to mention the healed stab wound, and the fact he was unconscious on their front yard. Something here felt purposeful, as if things were moving towards the house and he lifted his head to look out into the cul-de-sac; it was quiet and still, not even Debbie out taking the pack of chihuahuas she called dogs out for a walk, but out in the shadows, the ones that didn't come to Nyx, that swarmed and filled the space between and beyond houses, he could feel eyes on them.

He frowned and reached down. "Luci, get over and help me carry Balth inside."

"You must be kidding," Lucifer said though he made his way over, helping his brother hang their younger brother's arms over their shoulders, his wings hanging low at their sides.

"Gabriel," Nyx said frowning some.

He didn't turn to her, trying to maneuver to get them inside. "Nyx, get into the house and lock the door behind us."

She didn't say a word, simply nodding as she threw one last glance over her shoulder and followed after them, doing as he told her; her wings quivered and pulled in around her again as she turned after locking the door, seeing the two angels carry Balthazar into the living room and walking in, she saw Gabriel direct Lucifer to set the unconscious brother onto the couch. The golden archangel seemed to want this to go as gently as possible but Lucifer nearly slipped, his own strength starting to wane as it did on occasion and in the end Balthazar ended up being woken up not by some gentle end to a slumber but by being dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, one wing hitting as the coffee table as his older brother lost the ability to carry him much longer and his other brother, trying his best to keep him up, ended up losing grasp on him and both dropped him.

He let out a loud cry and his sight was a bit blurry for a moment though not enough to not see the strange girl run over to his side nor feel the strange sensation that in that moment he had no way of knowing was the usual angelic reaction to Nyx's powers. All he knew was that the pain that ran violently through his body upon his wing hitting the table was subsiding suddenly and he took a deep breath before mumbling his first word. "Ouch..."

"Balth, are you okay?" Gabriel asked brow furrowed and Balthazar looked up at his brother, taking a moment to recognize the archangel for who he was.

"Gabe? Is that you?" He felt confused, more so as he turned his attention to the other angel there and upon realizing who that was his eyes widened and he started to scoot away, his wings stretching out and incidentally smacking Nyx in the head.

"Careful, you shouldn't overexert yourself," she said gently and reached out to touch his wings again, feeling them shift under her hands; she took note how unlike the two archangels he only had two like hers, long like Lucifers though their coloration were far different. The top feathers looked to be far darker than the rest, almost black though they too had a silver sheen that fascinated her for a moment and she brushed her fingers over them before trying to focus. Out of the kitchen Tricky trotted out, almost as if sensing his chosen mistress using her powers, and the golden furred kitten tried to climb into her lap, mewing plantively.

Gabriel reached down to pick up the cat, feeling him wiggle in his arms and scratched him behind the ears. "It's okay, Balthazar, Lucifer isn't here to cause trouble."

"I wouldn't say that exactly," Lucifer said with a smirk and the Trickster tried to resist the urge to glare at his brother.

"What is he doing here?" Balthazar asked then winced, reaching up to put a hand again his suddenly aching forehead; seeing this Nyx moved her hands to place them over over Balthazar's, speaking softly as she asked him if he was okay. He didn't answer, didn't even pay her much mind as he felt a terrible pain rush through his head; he was struck by a realization and he half murmured, "What am I doing here?"

"That's what we were hoping to find out from you," Lucifer responded, "Why is your vessel so young? I mean couldn't you have found some adult to inhabit? Not sure a minor can give proper consent to being ridden by an angel."

"Permission right?" Nyx asked and the elder archangel nodded as Gabriel approached, leaning down to Balthazar's level.

He scrutinized the angel's face then reached out to touch him, feeling a strange spark; it wasn't like the ones he got from trying to heal Nyx, not a malicious feeling of something trying to stop him. But something felt weird and unsettling about this, like something was off about his younger brother. Balthazar looked him in the eye and ice blue stared into golden brown before finally Gabriel pulled back, a conflicted look on his face.

"What do you remember?" The question was careful; he wasn't too sure if his brother might have memory problems based on what his own inquiry had been, nor what he was supposed to do if so.

Balthazar didn't answer immediately, trying to think; he screwed up his face, a look that caused a small chuckle to leave Lucifer before the Devil had the inclination to cover his mouth in a weak attempt to hide it. Finally the young angel spoke, careful and measured, "Armaggedon. All the angels were moving around, trying to get the seals opened, and then once they were open they were scrambling around trying to get the Winchesters to agree to all the bull they wanted them to. You know, Luci and Mike fighting."

"Yeah I remember," Gabriel said with a tinge of guilt.

"I wasn't interested in all that though; I mean, I didn't really want to get overly involved in all that end of the world stuff so I remember faking my death, taking some weapons from heaven-"

"Wait, you what?" The golden archangel interrupted and frowned at his ex-fledgling, watching him turn to look at him before having the sense to look sheepish.

"Oh um yeah," Balthazar said and his wings shifted behind him, folding in at his sides, "I took some weapons, you know like...Lot's salt? And the Staff Father gave Moses?"

Gabriel wasn't sure what to say to that. Luckily, or unluckily perhaps, he didn't have a chance to say anything because Lucifer started to laugh and the Trickster turned to look at the older archangel, watching his ruined wings shuffle behind him as he nearly doubled over in laughter.

"Damnit kid, guess I was wrong; there's more of us with balls than I would have thought," the fallen said.

Nyx tilted her head, looking at Gabriel. "I'm assuming it's not a good thing Balthazar took those weapons?"

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "No, fledgling, it is not. Seriously Balth, you stole weapons from heaven?"

"I wanted some insurance in case someone figured it out and tried something," the angel said in his own defense, "Rebellion is not exactly well received by the rest of our kind, as big brother knows very well."

That stopped Lucifer's laugh and the fallen pursed his lips though he said nothing. Gabriel shook his head. "Yeah he does...so what happened after that?"

"I went on the run, lived a pretty nice life for a while," Balthazar continued, looking up at the ceiling, "Had women, alcohol, all sorts of fun."

"In this vessel?" Lucifer asked incredulously with a raised eyebrow and the younger angel turned to him.

"Of course this vessel; what you-" He started then looked at his hands and froze; the look that crossed his face was hard to read, slowly moving to look at the rest of himself, his baggy clothes, his large wings, his somewhat lanky arms and legs. Then he turned to Nyx and she nearly stumbled back as he lunged at her, "What did you do to me?!"

Gabriel and Lucifer both moved faster than either thought; dropping Tricky back on the ground, who yowled and rushed at Balthazar as well, the golden archangel grabbed hold of Nyx and cradled her in his arms while the kitten sunk his teeth into the teenage angel's leg and Lucifer grabbed a handful of Balthazar's clothes, his strength seeming to have returned to him as he pulled the younger angel back and up into the air with ease. The angels wings beat wildly, smacking Lucifer in the face but the fallen looked less than impressed and certainly not bothered, a cold look in his eyes as he spoke, "Do not attack Nyx, Balthazar; that would be very ill-advised."

"She did something to me though!" Balthazar argued and continued to struggle, trying to get free, "Put me down!"

"Nyx didn't do anything to you," Gabriel said sternly, still holding the girl, feeling her shake in his arms and having to focus to keep her wings from trying to fold in on them both; he whispered softly to her in Enochian, not expecting her understand them nor needing her to. It was to calm her, yet another old habit from his time in heaven tending to the fledglings, like Balthazar.

"When we found you outside you were already like this," Lucifer said continuing to hold his brother, showing none of the strain from before; there was a part of Gabriel that felt more terrified by this exhibition of strength than anything else, "In fact, our little fledgling is the reason you're not in more pain right now; she's been using her powers to soothe your pain and I think you owe her an apology and a thank you for being such a kind person."

"Or what? You'll kill me like you've killed other angels, brother?" Balthazar spat out the word with venom and Lucifer's wings bristled behind him before stretching out behind him.

Pain shot through the archangel's body but he ignored it as he spoke, "Do not tempt me."

"Lucifer," Gabriel said frowning, "Balthazar, stop it. No one is killing anyone in this house; don't make me separate you."

"Please don't fight," Nyx said softly, looking over at them and she managed to pull free of Gabriel to walk over to them, "Lucifer, would you let Balthazar go, please?"

The fallen looked at her silently, not moving or saying a word for a moment before finally releasing his brother and letting him fall back onto the ground before pulling his wings back with a wince. Balthazar stood, dusting himself and glaring after his older brother as Lucifer made his way to sit on the couch.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Nyx asked him and he turned to look at her, furrowing his brow; he didn't really know who or what she was, and it didn't make him trust her. Yet his brothers seemed to, and if Gabriel did then he supposed he could at least answer her question.

He thought hard and finally after another moment of silence spoke, "I don't know...I was somewhere I think, but I just don't remember."

"Amnesia isn't exactly something normal for an angel to go through," Gabriel said crossing his arms and he couldn't help but think of the scar on Balthazar's back, the look of it giving him chills despite how insignificant it might have looked ultimately.

"I think...it had something to do with Dean Winchester," Balthazar said in an almost far off voice, "Something do do with Dean Winchester..."

"Dean's still with his girlfriend isn't he?" Lucifer piped up, "That's what we last heard, though admittedly we haven't exactly been looking much into the Winchesters and their messed up dramas; we have our own after all."

"You're not stalking Sam Winchester?" Balthazar asked with a raised eyebrow and Lucifer smiled bitterly.

"I don't exactly have the power right now to be able to really make use of Sammy," the fallen said, holding out his arms, his wings struggling to move as well though all that came of it was pain and he nearly cried out in pain.

Even without him voicing it though Nyx seemed to know and rushed over, placing her hands gently on his wings to start trying to soothe his pain again; he gave her a soft sort of smile and Balthazar watched silently before turning to Gabriel.

"What is she? And what happened to Lucifer?"

"Great questions," Gabriel answered with a smile, "We have no answers to them. Nyx is Nyx, I found her about a month ago without any memories of who or what she is; she's basically like a fledgling but she looks like an adult and knows how to bake. As for Lucifer, he showed up here one night sort of like you."

"My Grace is currently heavily weakened," Lucifer said taking a deep breath as he felt the pain relief sink in, "And my wings ended up damaged somehow; probably happened when Cassie took Sammy out of Hell but don't know for sure. At this point only reason I can use them is because of Nyx's magic, it soothes the pain. I know they're cringeworthy to look at though."

"Cringeworthy is right," Balthazar said without a hesitation, "They look charbroiled."

"What is it with my little brothers and saying terrible things to me?" the elder archangel said with a overly dramatic sigh and turned to Nyx, "You're the only one who's nice to me, Nyxie; you're my only friend in this cruel, cruel world."

She smiled some. "We could always paint them."

"Paint them?" The unison with which the three angels were able to be able to speak in was surprising considering they had only been reunited after millennia apart for about ten minutes; they looked at her and she blushed some at the attention, starting to fidget. Her powers faltered for a moment before she recollected herself and continued.

"Um yes," she said sheepishly and bit her lip, "I actually thought about it earlier, during our previous conversation..."

"About how you and Gabby need to not pull out your feathers because it'll fuck you up?" Lucifer said.

"Yeah that," Nyx said, "I know how your wings look really bothers you and I was thinking maybe if we dyed them or something it might make you feel better."

"That's not a terrible idea actually," Gabriel spoke up, drawing attention back to him; he hummed slightly, "I mean it can't really do anything for your pain but it could help make your wings look less like overly fried chicken. And it could go a long way to maybe helping you heal too."

"Because you think there's a part of this that's psychosomatic," Lucifer said not so much an accusation but a curiosity, "I'm too focused on how destroyed my wings look to allow my body and my Grace to properly heal."

"Yeah but dyeing Satan's wings? Really?" Balthazar asked raising an eyebrow and after Gabriel and Nyx both nodded the angel thought for a moment then did the same, "Sure, sounds interesting to me."

Lucifer looked at the others, Gabriel's confident eyes, Balthazar and his nonchalance, the earnestly caring look on Nyx's face; he wasn't too sure whether to really go with it. He didn't want to think Gabriel might be right, that part of why his wings hadn't healed even a little since arriving at the house while Nyx was getting better every day was because Lucifer was so convinced they wouldn't. That this was some sort of punishment, the destruction of what was once so beautiful, that he had been so proud of, the loss of the things that more than anything so strongly marked him as one of God's precious angels. He wanted to think it was impossible for him to ever go back to how he'd been yet there was a part of him that did want to believe that it could be possible one day for him to fly high with his brother and Nyx, his wings to not hurt every day, for his feathers to grow back and for him to no longer look like the fallen that he was. That he Lucifer the Morningstar could heal.

"If we're going to do this, I demand we color them the most offending color possible," Lucifer said suddenly and Gabriel couldn't help a smirk.

"Why is that?" Nyx asked tilting her head again.

He puffed up some, smiling his most devious smile. "As a giant fuck you to our asshole of a dad and because I'm sure Michael would die if he saw my wings dyed."

"What color you thinking?" Balthazar asked, "Puke green? Poop brown? Beige? Plaid? Oh please say we're going to dye your wings plaid; that would be hilarious."

"I would be entirely too much behind painting my brother's wings plaid," Gabriel said nodding, trying not to laugh as he imagined it in his head.

"Hot pink." Both Balthazar and Gabriel stared at him, unsure what to say either to the declaration or to the proud look on their brother's face.

"Hot pink," Balthazar repeated and Lucifer nodded.

"I think your wings would look pretty if they were hot pink," Nyx said, causing the fallen to smile at her then turn to the others again.

"Nyx says it would look pretty, decision made," he said.

"If we're going to paint your wings hot pink we might as well cover them in glitter too," Gabriel said, his tone and grin making it hard to tell if he was just joking or being seriously; as the Trickster it was wholly possible it was either of those.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Lucifer replied grinning as well.

"We're going to make Lucifer's wings, the wings of one of the first four angels, hot pink...and cover them with glitter...like they were some prepubescent girl's diary," Balthazar said sounding like he wasn't sure whether to trust his ears; both of the older angels nodded in agreement and he shook his for a moment before letting out a laugh of his own, running a hand over his hair, "Welp, that would be certain to get Michael's goat. Fuck it, I'm in; sounds like a lot more fun than having you guys peppering me with more questions."

"We can do that later," Gabriel said and snapped his fingers, materializing what looked to be about seven or eight bottles and three buckets of shimmering multicolored glitter.

Nyx picked up a bottle, reading the label upon it aloud, " 'G'Abriel Shocking Pink Punky Wing Dye, For Fucked Up Bags of Dicks'."

"Gabriel!" Lucifer said, turning to his brother, "How dare you make Nyx say such terrible words!"

"I didn't tell her to read it aloud," the Trickster said grabbing a bottle himself, "Now sit still; this will take some time; we're gonna need to dye each wing separately. Hopefully Nyx managed to buy us enough time to get it all done."

"I've never dyed someone's wings before," she said, Balthazar grabbing a bottle in each hand with a devious grin.

"Neither have we," the youngest angel there spoke, "This is gonna be fun."

"Be gentle," Lucifer said sarcastically as his brothers advanced upon him, feeling his wings be pulled and the wing dye being used; it was a strange sensation and he tried not to fidget or laugh despite the mild tickling. There was something warm to it as well, different than the coolness of the dye being used upon his ruined wings, and the devil didn't know how to feel about it. He figured he would just have to settle for keeping it to himself and on the shallow levels simply looked forward to seeing what his wings would look like. Michael would be sure to have a heart attack next time they meet.


End file.
